THE  GREEN 
MOUSE 


B    3    57fi    7fifi 


ROBERT  W.  CHAMBERS 


'Che  GREEN  MOUSE 


Works  of  Robert  W.  Chambers 


The  Green  Mouse 
The  Danger  Mark 


Special  Messenger 
The  Firing  Line 
The  Younger  Set 
The  Fighting  Chance 
Some  Ladies  in  Haste 
The  Tree  of  Heaven 
The     Tracer     of     Lost 

Persons 
A    Young     Man    in    a 

Hurry 
Lorraine 

Maids  of  Paradise 
Ashes  of  Empire 
The  Red  Republic 
Outsiders 


lole 

The  Reckoning 
The  Maid -at- Arms 
Cardigan 

The  Haunts  of  Men 
The  Mystery  of  Choice 
The  Cambric  Mask 
The  Maker  of  Moons 
The  King  in  Yellow 
In   Search   of    the  Un- 
known 

The  Conspirators 
A     King     and    a    Few 

Dukes 
In  the  Quarter 


For  Children 

Garden- Land  Mountain-Land 

Forest-Land  Orchard-Land 

River-Land  Outdoorland 

Hide  and  Seek  in  Forest-Land 


140 


'She  almost  wished  some  fisherman  might  come  into  view." 

[Page  272.] 


GREEN  MOUSE 

By   ROBERT  W:    CHAMBERS 


• 


ILLUSTRATED   IN  COLOR   BY 

ED-M;U;1N.D; 


D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 
NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON::MCMX 


COPYRIGHT,  1910,  BY 
ROBERT  W.   CHAMBERS 


Copyright,  1908,  1909,  by  The  Curtis  Publishing  Company 


PublifrU  Ip&U  #4)  V 


TO 
MY    FRIEND 

JOHN    CORBIN. 

Folly  and  Wisdom,  Heavenly  twins, 

Sons  of  the  god  Imagination, 
Heirs  of  the  Virtues — which  were  Sins 

Till  Transcendental  Contemplation 
Transmogrified  their  outer  skins — 

Friend,  do  you  follow  me  ?     For  I 
Have  lost  myself,  I  don't  know  why. 

Resuming,  then,  this  erudite 

And  decorative  Dedication, — 
Accept  it,  John,  with  all  your  might 

In  Cinquecentic  resignation. 
You  may  not  understand  it,  quite, 

But  if  you've  followed  me  all  through, 
You've  done  far  more  than  I  could  do. 


PREFACE 


To  the  literary,  literal,  and  scientific  mind 
purposeless  fiction  is  abhorrent.  Fortunately 
we  all  are  literally  and  scientifically  inclined; 
the  doom  of  purposeless  fiction  is  sounded; 
and  it  is  a  great  comfort  to  believe  that,  in 
the  near  future,  only  literary  and  scientific 
works  suitable  for  man,  woman,  child,  and 
suffragette,  are  to  adorn  the  lingerie-laden 
counters  in  our  great  department  shops. 

It  is,  then,  with  animation  and  confidence 
that  the  author  politely  offers  to  a  regen- 
erated nation  this  modern,  moral,  literary, 
and  highly  scientific  work,  thinly  but  inef- 
fectually disguised  as  fiction,  in  deference  to 
the  prejudices  of  a  few  old-fashioned  story- 
readers  who  still  survive  among  us. 

R.  W.  C. 


CHAPTER 

I. — AN  IDYL  OF  THE  IDLE 
II.— THE  IDLER 
III. — THE  GREEN  MOUSE 
IV. — AN  IDEAL  IDOL     . 
V. — SACHARISSA     .        . 
VI. — IN  WRONG      . 
VII. — THE  INVISIBLE  WIRE  . 
VIII. — "!N  HEAVEN  AND  EARTH" 
IX. — A  CROSS-TOWN  CAR      .        . 
X. — THE  LID  OFF         .        .        . 

XI.— BETTY 

XII.— SYBILLA   .        .        .        . 
XIII. — THE  CROWN  PRINCE     . 
XIV. — GENTLEMEN  OF  THE  PRESS 
XV. — DRUSILLA        . 
XVI.— FLAVILLA 


PAGE 

I 

16 

23 

37 

49 

63 

78 

97 

109 

124 

144 

178 

197 

218 

232 

256 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING 
PAGE 

'She   almost  wished   some  fisherman  might 
come  into  view"       .        .        .        .Frontispiece 

"Those    squirrels   are   very   tame,'    she    ob- 
served calmly" 12 


"'Are  you  not  terribly  impatient?'   she  in- 
quired"      .  


86 


"The  lid  of  the  basket  tilted  a  little.  .  .  . 
Then  a  plaintive  voice  said  'Meow-w!'"       .      122 

"'I'm  afraid,'  he  ventured,   'that  I  may  re- 
quire that  table  for  cutting '"         .        .        .198 

"'Perhaps,'  he  said,  'I  had  better  hold  your 
pencil  again'" 248 


AN   IDYL   OF   THE   IDLE 

In  Which  a  Young  Man  Arrives  at  His  Last 
Ditch  and  a  Young  Girl  Jumps  Over  It 

UTTERLY   unequipped    for   anything 
except  to  ornament  his  environment, 
the    crash    in    Steel    stunned    him. 
Dazed  but  polite,  he  remained  a  passive  ob- 
server of  the  sale  which  followed  and  which 
apparently  realized  sufficient  to  satisfy  every 
creditor,  but  not  enough  for  an  income  to  con- 
tinue a  harmlessly  idle  career  which  he  had 
supposed  was  to  continue  indefinitely. 

He  had  never  earned  a  penny ;  he  had  not 
the  vaguest  idea  of  how  people  made  money. 


ii  :..:^\\The  Green  Mouse 

To  do  something,  however,  was  absolutely 
necessary. 

He  wasted  some  time  in  finding  out  just 
how  much  aid  he  might  expect  from  his  late 
father's  friends,  but  when  he  understood  the 
attitude  of  society  toward  a  knocked-out  gen- 
tleman he  wisely  ceased  to  annoy  society,  and 
turned  to  the  business  world. 

Here  he  wasted  some  more  time.  Perhaps 
the  time  was  not  absolutely  wasted,  for  dur- 
ing that  period  he  learned  that  he  could  use 
nobody  who  could  not  use  him ;  and  as  he 
appeared  to  be  perfectly  useless,  except  for 
ornament,  and  as  a  business  house  is  not  a 
kindergarten,  and  furthermore,  as  he  had 
neither  time  nor  money  to  attend  any  school 
where  anybody  could  teach  him  anything,  it 
occurred  to  him  to  take  a  day  off  for  minute 
and  thorough  self-examination  concerning 
his  qualifications  and  even  his  right  to  oc- 
cupy a  few  feet  of  space  upon  the  earth's 
surface. 

Four  years  at  Harvard,  two  more  in  post- 
graduate courses,  two  more  in  Europe  to  per- 
fect himself  in  electrical  engineering,  and  a 
year  at  home  attempting  to  invent  a  wireless 
apparatus  for  intercepting  and  transmitting 


An  Idyl  of  the  Idle 


psychical  waves  had  left  him  pitifully  unfit 
for  wage  earning. 

There  remained  his  accomplishments;  but 
the  market  was  overstocked  with  assorted 
time-killers. 

His  last  asset  was  a  trivial  though  unusual 
talent — a  natural  manual  dexterity  cultivated 
since  childhood  to  amuse  himself — something 
he  never  took  seriously.  This,  and  a  curious 
control  over  animals,  had,  as  the  pleasant 
years  flowed  by,  become  an  astonishing  skill 
which  was  much  more  than  sleight  of  hand; 
and  he,  always  as  good-humored  as  well-bred, 
had  never  refused  to  amuse  the  frivolous,  of 
which  he  was  also  one,  by  picking  silver  dol- 
lars out  of  space  and  causing  the  proper  card 
to  fall  fluttering  from  the  ceiling. 

Day  by  day,  as  the  little  money  left  him 
melted  away,  he  continued  his  vigorous  men- 
tal examination,  until  the  alarming  shrinkage 
in  his  funds  left  him  staring  fixedly  at  his  last 
asset:  Could  he  use  it  ?  Was  it  an  asset,  after 
all  ?  How  clever  was  he  ?  Could  he  face  an  au- 
dience and  perform  the  usual  magician  tricks 
without  bungling?  A  slip  by  a  careless, 
laughing,  fashionable  young  amateur  amus- 
ing his  social  equals  at  a  house  party  is  ex- 
2 


The  Green  Mouse 


cusable;  a  bungle  by  a  hired  professional 
meant  an  end  to  hope  in  that  direction. 

So  he  rented  a  suite  of  two  rooms  on  Cen- 
tral Park  West,  furnished  them  with  what 
remained  from  better  days,  bought  the  neces- 
sary paraphernalia  of  his  profession,  and  im- 
mured himself  for  practice  before  entering 
upon  his  contemplated  invasion  of  Newport, 
Lenox,  and  Bar  Harbor.  And  one  very  love- 
ly afternoon  in  May,  when  the  Park  from  his 
windows  looked  like  a  green  forest,  and  puff 
on  puff  of  perfumed  air  fluttered  the  curtains 
at  his  opened  windows,  he  picked  up  his 
gloves  and  stick,  put  on  his  hat,  and  went  out 
to  walk  in  the  Park ;  and  when  he  had  walked 
sufficiently  he  sat  down  on  a  bench  in  a  flow- 
ery, bushy  nook  on  the  edge  of  a  bridle  path. 

Few  people  disturbed  the  leafy  privacy;  a 
policeman  sauntering  southward  noted  him, 
perhaps  for  future  identification.  The  specta- 
cle of  a  well-built,  well-groomed,  and  fash- 
ionable young  man  sitting  moodily  upon  a 
park  bench  was  certainly  to  be  noted.  It  is 
not  the  fashion  for  fashionable  people  to  sit 
on  park  benches  unless  they  contemplate  self, 
as  well  as  social,  destruction. 

So  the  policeman  lingered  for  a  while  in  the 


An  Idyl  of  the  Idle 


vicinity,  but  not  hearing  any  revolver  shot, 
presently  sauntered  on,  buck-skinned  fist 
clasped  behind  his  broad  back,  squinting  at 
a  distant  social  gathering  composed  entirely 
of  the  most  exclusive  nursemaids. 

The  young  man  looked  up  into  the  pleasant 
blue  above,  then  his  preoccupied  gaze  wan- 
dered from  woodland  to  thicket,  where  the 
scarlet  glow  of  Japanese  quince  mocked  the 
colors  of  the  fluttering  scarlet  tanagers ;  where 
orange-tinted  orioles  flashed  amid  tangles  of 
golden  Forsythia ;  and  past  the  shrubbery  to 
an  azure  corner  of  water,  shimmering  under 
the  wooded  slope  below. 

That  sense  of  languor  and  unrest,  of  de- 
spondency threaded  by  hope  which  fair  skies 
and  sunshine  and  new  leaves  bring  with  the 
young  year  to  the  young,  he  felt.  Yet  there 
was  no  bitterness  in  his  brooding,  for  he  was 
a  singularly  generous  young  man,  and  there 
was  no  vindictiveness  mixed  with  the  memo- 
ries of  his  failures  among  those  whose  cordial 
respect  for  his  father  had  been  balanced  be- 
tween that  blameless  gentleman's  wealth  and 
position. 

A  gray  squirrel  came  crawling  and  nosing 
through  the  fresh  grass;  he  caught  its  eyes, 


The  Green  Mouse 


and,  though  the  little  animal  was  plainly 
bound  elsewhere  on  important  business,  the 
young  man  soon  had  it  curled  up  on  his  knee, 
asleep. 

For  a  while  he  amused  himself  by  using  his 
curious  power,  alternately  waking  the  squir- 
rel and  allowing  it  to  bound  off,  tail  twitching, 
and  then  calling  it  back,  slowly  but  inexor- 
ably to  climb  his  trousers  and  curl  up  on  his 
knee  and  sleep  an  uncanny  and  deep  sleep 
which  might  end  only  at  the  young  man's 
pleasure. 

He,  too,  began  to  feel  the  subtle  stillness 
of  the  drowsing  woodland ;  musing  there, 
caressing  his  short,  crisp  mustache,  he 
watched  the  purple  grackle  walking  about  in 
iridescent  solitude,  the  sun  spots  waning  and 
glowing  on  the  grass ;  he  heard  the  soft,  gar- 
rulous whimper  of  waterfowl  along  the  wa- 
ter's edge,  the  stir  of  leaves  above. 

He  thought  of  various  personal  matters: 
his  poverty,  the  low  ebb  of  his  balance  at  the 
bank,  his  present  profession,  his  approaching 
debut  as  an  entertainer,  the  chances  of  his 
failure.  He  thought,  too,  of  the  astounding 
change  in  his  life,  the  future,  vacant  of  prom- 
ise, devoid  of  meaning,  a  future  so  utterly 


An  Idyl  of  the  Idle 


new  and  blank  that  he  could  find  in  it  nothing 
to  speculate  upon.  He  thought  also,  and  per- 
fectly impersonally,  of  a  girl  whom  he  had 
met  now  and  then  upon  the  stairs  of  the 
apartment  house  which  he  now  inhabited. 

Evidently  there  had  been  an  ebb  in  her 
prosperity ;  the  tumble  of  a  New  Yorker's 
fortune  leads  from  the  Avenue  to  the 
Eighties,  from  thence  through  Morristown, 
Staten  Island,  to  the  West  Side.  Besides,  she 
painted  pictures ;  he  knew  the  aroma  of  fixi- 
tive,  siccative,  and  burnt  sienna ;  and  her  stu- 
dio adjoined  his  sky  drawing-room. 

He  thought  of  this  girl  quite  impersonally ; 
she  resembled  a  youthful  beauty  he  had 
known — might  still  know  if  he  chose ;  for  a 
man  who  can  pay  for  his  evening  clothes  need 
never  deny  himself  the  society  he  was  bred  to. 

She  certainly  did  resemble  that  girl — she 
had  the  same  bluish  violet  eyes,  the  same 
white  and  deeply  fringed  lids,  the  same  free 
grace  of  carriage,  a  trifle  too  boyish  at  times 
— the  same  firmly  rounded,  yet  slender,  figure. 

"  Now,  as  a  matter  of  fact,"  he  mused  aloud, 
stroking  the  sleeping  squirrel  on  his  knee,  "  I 
could  have  fallen  in  love  with  either  of  those 
girls — before  Copper  blew  up." 


8  The  Green  Mouse 

Pursuing  his  innocuous  meditation  he  nod- 
ded to  himself:  "  I  rather  like  the  poor  one 
better  than  any  girl  I  ever  saw.  Doubtless 
she  paints  portraits  over  solar  prints.  That's 
all  right ;  she's  doing  more  than  I  have  done 
yet.  ...  I  approve  of  those  eyes  of  hers ; 
they're  like  the  eyes  of  that  waking  Aphrodite 
in  the  Luxembourg.  If  she  would  only  just 
look  at  me  once  instead  of  looking  through 
me  when  we  pass  one  another  in  the  hall " 

The  deadened  gallop  of  a  horse  on  the 
bridle  path  caught  his  ear.  The  horse  was 
coming  fast — almost  too  fast.  He  laid  the 
sleeping  squirrel  on  the  bench,  listened,  then 
instinctively  stood  up  and  walked  to  the 
thicket's  edge. 

What  happened  was  too  quick  for  him  to 
comprehend ;  he  had  a  vision  of  a  big  black 
horse,  mane  and  tail  in  the  wind,  tearing 
madly,  straight  at  him — a  glimpse  of  a  white 
face,  desperate  and  set,  a  flutter  of  loosened 
hair ;  then  a  storm  of  wind  and  sand  roared  in 
his  ears ;  he  was  hurled,  jerked,  and  flung 
forward,  dragged,  shaken,  and  left  half  sense- 
less, hanging  to  nose  and  bit  of  a  horse  whose 
rider  was  picking  herself  out  of  a  bush  cov- 
ered with  white  flowers. 


An  Idyl  of  the  Idle 


Half  senseless  still,  he  tightened  his  grip 
on  the  bit,  released  the  grasp  on  the  creature's 
nose,  and,  laying  his  hand  full  on  the  forelock, 
brought  it  down  twice  and  twice  across  the 
eyes,  talking  to  the  horse  in  halting,  broken 
whispers. 

When  he  had  the  trembling  animal  under 
control  he  looked  around;  the  girl  stood  on 
the  grass,  dusty,  dirty,  disheveled,  bleeding 
from  a  cut  on  the  cheek  bone;  the  most  be- 
wildered and  astonished  creature  he  had  ever 
looked  upon. 

"  It  will  be  all  right  in  a  few  minutes,"  he 
said,  motioning  her  to  the  bench  on  the  as- 
phalt walk.  She  nodded,  turned,  picked  up 
his  hat,  and,  seating  herself,  began  to  smooth 
the  furred  nap  with  her  sleeve,  watching  him 
intently  all  the  while.  That  he  already  had 
the  confidence  of  a  horse  that  he  had  never 
before  seen  was  perfectly  apparent.  Little  by 
little  the  sweating,  quivering  limbs  were 
stilled,  the  tense  muscles  in  the  neck  relaxed, 
the  head  sank,  dusty  velvet  lips  nibbled  at  his 
hand,  his  shoulder ;  the  heaving,  sunken  flanks 
filled  and  grew  quiet. 

Bareheaded,  his  attire  in  disorder  and  cov- 
ered with  slaver  and  sand,  the  young  man 


io  The  Green  Mouse 

laid  the  bridle  on  the  horse's  neck,  held  out 
his  hand,  and,  saying  "  Come,"  turned  his 
back  and  walked  down  the  bridle  path.  The 
horse  stretched  a  sweating  neck,  sniffed, 
pricked  forward  both  small  ears,  and  slowly 
followed,  turning  as  the  man  turned,  up  and 
down,  crowding  at  heel  like  a  trained  dog, 
finally  stopping  on  the  edge  of  the  walk. 

The  young  man  looped  the  bridle  over  a 
low  maple  limb,  and  leaving  the  horse  stand- 
ing sauntered  over  to  the  bench. 

"That  horse,"  he  said  pleasantly,  "is  all 
right  now;  but  the  question  is,  are  you  all 
right  ?  " 

She  rose,  handing  him  his  hat,  and  began 
to  twist  up  her  bright  hair.  For  a  few  mo- 
ments' silence  they  were  frankly  occupied  in 
restoring  order  to  raiment,  dusting  off  gravel 
and  examining  rents. 

"  I'm  tremendously  grateful,"  she  said  ab- 
ruptly. 

"  I  am,  too,"  he  said  in  that  attractive  man- 
ner which  sets  people  of  similar  caste  at  ease 
with  one  another. 

"  Thank  you ;  it's  a  generous  compliment, 
considering  your  hat  and  clothing." 

He  looked  up ;  she  stood  twisting  her  hair 


An  Idyl  of  the  Idle  n 

and  doing  her  best  with  the  few  remaining 
hair  pegs. 

"  I'm  a  sight  for  little  fishes,"  she  said,  col- 
oring. "  Did  that  wretched  beast  bruise 
you?" 

"  Oh,  no " 

"  You  limped !  " 

"  Did  I  ?  "  he  said  vaguely.  "  How  do  you 
feel?" 

"  There  is,"  she  said,  "  a  curious,  breathless 
flutter  all  over  me ;  if  that  is  fright,  I  suppose 
I'm  frightened,  but  I  don't  mind  mounting  at 
once — if  you  would  put  me  up " 

"  Better  wait  a  bit,"  he  said ;  "  it  would  not 
do  to  have  that  horse  feel  a  fluttering  pulse 
telegraphing  along  the  snaffle.  Tell  me,  are 
you  spurred  ?  V 

She  lifted  the  hem  of  her  habit;  two 
small  spurs  glittered  on  her  polished  boot 
heels. 

"  That's  it,  you  see,"  he  observed ;  "  you 
probably  have  not  ridden  cross  saddle  very 
long.  When  your  mount  swerved  you 
spurred,  and  he  bolted,  bit  in  teeth." 

"  That's  exactly  it,"  she  admitted,  looking 
ruefully  at  her  spurs.  Then  she  dropped  her 
skirt,  glanced  interrogatively  at  him,  and, 


12  The  Green  Mouse 

obeying  his  grave  gesture,  seated  herself 
again  upon  the  bench. 

"  Don't  stand,"  she  said  civilly.  He  took 
the  other  end  of  the  seat,  lifting  the  still  slum- 
bering squirrel  to  his  knee. 

"  I — I  haven't  said  very  much,"  she  began ; 
"  I'm  impulsive  enough  to  be  overgrateful  and 
say  too  much.  I  hope  you  understand  me; 
do  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course ;  you're  very  good.  It  was 
nothing;  you  could  have  stopped  your  horse 
yourself.  People  do  that  sort  of  thing  for 
one  another  as  a  matter  of  course." 

"  But  not  at  the  risk  you  took " 

"  No  risk  at  all,"  he  said  hastily. 

She  thought  otherwise,  and  thought  it  so 
fervently  that,  afraid  of  emotion,  she  turned 
her  cold,  white  profile  to  him  and  studied  her 
horse,  haughty  lids  adroop.  The  same  inso- 
lent sweetness  was  in  her  eyes  when  they 
again  reverted  to  him.  He  knew  the  look ; 
he  had  encountered  it  often  enough  in  the 
hallway  and  on  the  stairs.  He  knew,  too,  that 
she  must  recognize  him ;  yet,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, it  was  for  her  to  speak  first; 
and  she  did  not,  for  she  was  at  that  age  when 
horror  of  overdoing  anything  chokes  back 


'Those  squirrels  are  very  tame,'  she  observed  calmly. 


An  Idyl  of  the  Idle 


the  scarcely  extinguished  childish  instinct  to 
say  too  much.  In  other  words,  she  was  eigh- 
teen and  had  had  her  first  season  the  winter 
past — the  winter  when  he  had  not  been  visi- 
ble among  the  gatherings  of  his  own  kind. 

"  Those  squirrels  are  very  tame/'  she  ob- 
served calmly. 

"  Not  always,"  he  said.  "  Try  to  hold  this 
one,  for  example." 

She  raised  her  pretty  eyebrows,  then  ac- 
cepted the  lump  of  fluffy  fur  from  his  hands. 
Instantly  an  electric  shock  seemed  to  set  the 
squirrel  frantic,  there  was  a  struggle,  a  streak 
of  gray  and  white,  and  the  squirrel  leaped 
from  her  lap  and  fairly  flew  down  the  asphalt 
path. 

"  Gracious  !  "  she  exclaimed  faintly ;  "  what 
was  the  matter?  " 

"  Some  squirrels  are  very  wild,"  he  said 
innocently. 

"  I  know — but  you  held  him — he  was  asleep 
on  your  knee.  Why  didn't  he  stay  with  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  perhaps  because  I  have  a  way  with 
animals." 

"  With  horses,  too,"  she  added  gayly.  And 
the  smile  breaking  from  her  violet  eyes  si- 
lenced him  in  the  magic  of  a  beauty  he  had 


The  Green  Mouse 


•never  dreamed  of.  At  first  she  mistook  his 
silence  for  modesty;  then  —  because  even  as 
young  a  maid  as  she  is  quick  to  divine  and 
fine  of  instinct  —  she  too  fell  silent  and  serious, 
the  while  the  shuttles  of  her  reason  flew  like 
lightning,  weaving  the  picture  of  him  she  had 
conceived  —  a  gentleman,  a  man  of  her  own 
sort,  rather  splendid  and  wise  and  bewilder- 
ing. The  portrait  completed,  there  was  no 
room  for  the  hint  of  presumption  she  had 
half  sensed  in  the  brown  eyes'  glance  that  had 
set  her  alert  ;  and  she  looked  up  at  him  again, 
frankly,  a  trifle  curiously. 

"  I  am  going  to  thank  you  once  more,"  she 
said,  "  and  ask  you  to  put  me  up.  There  is 
not  a  flutter  of  fear  in  my  pulse  now." 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  ?  " 

"  Perfectly." 

They  arose  ;  he  untied  the  horse  and  beck- 
oned it  to  the  walk's  edge. 

"  I  forgot,"  she  said,  laughing,  "  that  I  am 
riding  cross  saddle.  I  can  mount  without 
troubling  you  —  "  She  set  her  toe  to  the 
stirrup  which  he  held,  and  swung  herself  up 
into  the  saddle  with  a  breezy  "  Thanks,  aw- 
fully," and  sat  there  gathering  her  bridle. 

Had  she   said  enough?     How  coldly  her 


An  Idyl  of  the  Idle  15 

own  thanks  rang  in  her  ears — for  perhaps  he 
had  saved  her  neck — and  perhaps  not.  Busy 
with  curb  and  snaffle  reins,  head  bent,  into 
her  oval  face  a  tint  of  color  crept.  Did  he 
think  she  treated  lightly,  flippantly,  the  cour- 
age which  became  him  so?  Or  was  he  al- 
ready bored  by  her  acknowledgment  of  it? 
Sensitive,  dreading  to  expose  youth  and  in- 
experience to  the  amused  smile  of  this  attrac- 
tive young  man  of  the  world,  she  sat  fumbling 
with  her  bridle,  conscious  that  he  stood  be- 
side her,  hat  in  hand,  looking  up  at  her.  She 
could  delay  no  longer;  the  bridle  had  been 
shifted  and  reshifted  to  the  last  second  of  pro- 
crastination. She  must  say  something  or  go. 
Meeting  his  eyes,  she  smiled  and  leaned 
a  little  forward  in  her  saddle  as  though  to 
speak,  but  his  brown  eyes  troubled  her,  and 
all  she  could  say  was  "  Thank  you — good- 
by,"  and  galloped  off  down  the  vista  through 
dim,  leafy  depths  heavy  with  the  incense  of 
lilac  and  syringa. 


II 


THE    IDLER 

Concerning  the  Young  Man  in  the  Ditch  and 
His  Attempts  to  Get  Out  of  It 

ALTHOUGH  he  was  not  vindictive,  he 
did  not  care  to  owe  anything  to  any- 
body who  might  be  inclined  to  give 
him  a  hearing  on  account  of  former  obliga- 
tions or  his  social  position.     Everybody  knew 
he  had  gone  to   smash;  everybody,  he  very 
soon  discovered,  was  naturally  afraid  of  being 
bothered  by  him.     The  dread  of  the  overfed 
that  an  underfed  member  of  the  community 
may  request  a  seat  at  the  table  he  now  under- 
stood perfectly.     He  was  learning. 
16 


The  Idler  17 


So  he  solicited  aid  from  nobody  whom  he 
had  known  in  former  days ;  neither  from 
those  who  had  aided  him  when  he  needed  no 
aid,  nor  those  who  owed  their  comfortable  po- 
sition to  the  generosity  of  his  father — a  gen- 
tleman notorious  for  making  fortunes  for  his 
friends. 

Therefore  he  wrote  to  strangers  on  a  purely 
business  basis — to  amazing  types  lately 
emerged  from  the  submerged,  bulging  with 
coal  money,  steel  money,  copper  money, 
wheat  money,  stockyard  money — types  that 
galloped  for  Fifth  Avenue  to  build  town 
houses ;  that  shook  their  long  ears  and  frisked 
into  the  country  and  built  "  cottages."  And 
this  was  how  he  put  it: 

"Madam:  In  case  you  desire  to  entertain 
guests  with  the  professional  services  of  a 
magician  it  would  give  me  pleasure  to  place 
my  very  unusual  accomplishments  at  your  dis- 
posal." 

And  signed  his  name. 

It  was  a  dreadful  drain  on  his  bank  account 
to  send  several  thousand  engraved  cards  about 
town  and  fashionable  resorts.  No  replies 


1 8  The  Green  Mouse 

came.  Day  after  day,  exhausted  with  the 
practice  drill  of  his  profession,  he  walked  to 
the  Park  and  took  his  seat  on  the  bench  by 
the  bridle  path.  Sometimes  he  saw  her  canter- 
ing past ;  she  always  acknowledged  his  salute, 
but  never  drew  bridle.  At  times,  too,  he 
passed  her  in  the  hall ;  her  colorless  "  Good 
morning  "  never  varied  except  when  she  said 
"  Good  evening."  And  all  this  time  he  never 
inquired  her  name  from  the  hall  servant;  he 
was  that  sort  of  man — decent  through  in- 
stinct; for  even  breeding  sometimes  permits 
sentiment  to  snoop. 

For  a  week  he  had  been  airily  dispensing 
with  more  than  one  meal  a  day;  to  keep 
clothing  and  boots  immaculate  required  a  sac- 
rifice of  breakfast  and  luncheon — besides,  he 
had  various  small  pensioners  to  feed,  white 
rabbits  with  foolish  pink  eyes,  canary  birds, 
cats,  albino  mice,  goldfish,  and  other  collabo- 
rateurs  in  his  profession.  He  was  obliged  to 
bribe  the  janitor,  too,  because  the  laws  of  the 
house  permitted  neither  animals  nor  babies 
within  its  precincts.  This  extra  honorarium 
deprived  him  of  tobacco,  and  he  became  a 
pessimist. 

Besides,  doubts  as  to  his  own  ability  arose 


The  Idler  19 


within  him;  it  was  all  very  well  to  practice 
his  magic  there  alone,  but  he  had  not  yet 
tried  it  on  anybody  except  the  janitor;  and 
when  he  had  begun  by  discovering  several 
red-eyed  rabbits  in  the  janitor's  pockets  that 
intemperate  functionary  fled  with  a  despond- 
ent yell  that  brought  a  policeman  to  the  area 
gate  with  a  threat  to  pull  the  place. 

At  length,  however,  a  letter  came  engaging 
him  for  one  evening.  He  was  quite  incredu- 
lous at  first,  then  modestly  scared,  perplexed, 
exultant  and  depressed  by  turns.  Here  was 
an  opening — the  first.  And  because  it  was 
the  first  its  success  or  failure  meant  future 
engagements  or  consignments  to  the  street, 
perhaps  as  a  white-wing.  There  must  be  no 
faltering  now,  no  bungling,  no  mistakes,  no 
amateurish  hesitation.  It  is  the  empty-head- 
ed who  most  strenuously  demand  intelligence 
in  others.  One  yawn  from  such  an  audience 
meant  his  professional  damnation — he  knew 
that;  every  second  must  break  like  froth  in 
a  wine  glass ;  an  instant's  perplexity,  a  slack- 
ening of  the  tension,  and  those  flaccid  intel- 
lects would  relax  into  native  inertia.  In- 
capable of  self-amusement,  depending  utterly 
upon  superior  minds  for  a  respite  from  ennui, 
3 


2O  The  Green  Mouse 

their  caprice  controlled  his  fate;  and  he 
knew  it. 

Sitting  there  by  the  sunny  window  with  a 
pair  of  magnificent  white  Persian  cats  purring 
on  either  knee,  he  read  and  reread  the  letter 
summoning  him  on  the  morrow  to  Seabright. 
He  knew  who  his  hostess  was — a  large  lady 
lately  emerged  from  a  corner  in  lard,  drag- 
ging with  her  some  assorted  relatives  of 
atrophied  intellects  and  a  husband  whose  only 
mental  pleasure  depended  upon  the  speed  at- 
tained by  his  racing  car — the  most  exacting 
audience  he  could  dare  to  confront. 

Like  the  White  Knight  he  had  had  plenty 
of  practice,  but  he  feared  that  warrior's  fate ; 
and  as  he  sat  there  he  picked  up  a  bunch  of 
silver  hoops,  tossed  them  up  separately  so  that 
they  descended  linked  in  a  glittering  chain, 
looped  them  and  unlooped  them,  and,  tiring, 
thoughtfully  tossed  them  toward  the  ceiling 
again,  where  they  vanished  one  by  one  in 
mid-air. 

The  cats  purred ;  he  picked  up  one,  molded 
her  carefully  in  his  handsome  hands;  and 
presently,  under  the  agreeable  massage,  her 
purring  increased  while  she  dwindled  and 
dwindled  to  the  size  of  a  small,  fluffy  kitten, 


The  Idler  21 


then  vanished  entirely,  leaving  in  his  hand  a 
tiny  white  mouse.  This  mouse  he  tossed  into 
the  air,  where  it  became  no  mouse  at  all  but 
a  white  butterfly  that  fluttered  'round  and 
'round,  alighting  at  last  on  the  window  cur- 
tain and  hung  there,  opening  and  closing  its 
snowy  wings. 

"  That's  all  very  well,"  he  reflected,  gloom- 
ily, as,  at  a  pass  of  his  hand,  the  air  was 
filled  with  canary  birds ;  "  that's  all  very  well, 
but  suppose  I  should  slip  up?  What  I  need 
is  to  rehearse  to  somebody  before  I  face  two 
or  three  hundred  people." 

He  thought  he  heard  a  knocking  on  his 
door,  and  listened  a  moment.  But  as  there 
was  an  electric  bell  there  he  concluded  he  had 
been  mistaken;  and  picking  up  the  other 
white  cat,  he  began  a  gentle  massage  that 
stimulated  her  purring,  apparently  at  the  ex- 
pense of  her  color  and  size,  for  in  a  few  mo- 
ments she  also  dwindled  until  she  became  a 
very  small,  coal-black  kitten,  changing  in  a 
twinkling  to  a  blackbird,  when  he  cast  her 
carelessly  toward  the  ceiling.  It  was  well 
done;  in  all  India  no  magician  could  have 
done  it  more  cleverly,  more  casually. 

Leaning  forward  in  his  chair  he  reproduced 


22  The  Green  Mouse 

the  two  white  cats  from  behind  him,  put  the 
kittens  back  in  their  box,  caught  the  black- 
bird and  caged  it,  and  was  carefully  winding 
up  the  hairspring  in  the  white  butterfly,  when 
again  he  fancied  that  somebody  was  knocking. 


Ill 

THE   GREEN    MOUSE 

Showing  the  Value  of  a  Helping  Hand  When 
It  Is  White  and  Slender 

THIS  time  he  went  leisurely  to   the 
door   and   opened   it;   a   girl   stood 
there,  saying,  "  I  beg  your  pardon 
for  disturbing  you — "     It  was  high  time  she 
admitted  it,  for  her  eyes  had  been  disturbing 
him   day   and  night   since  the   first   time  he 
passed  her  in  the  hall. 

She  appeared  to  be  a  trifle  frightened,  too, 

and,  scarcely  waiting  for  his  invitation,  she 

stepped  inside  with  a  hurried  glance  behind 

her,  and  walked  to  the  center  of  the  room 

23 


24  The  Green  Mouse 

holding  her  skirts  carefully  as  though  step- 
ping through  wet  grass 

"  I — I  am  annoyed,"  she  said  in  a  voice  not 
perfectly  under  command.  "  If  you  please, 
would  you  tell  me  whether  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  a  pea-green  mouse  ?  " 

Then  he  did  a  mean  thing;  he  could  have 
cleared  up  that  matter  with  a  word,  a  smile, 
and — he  didn't. 

"  A  green  mouse  ?  "  he  repeated  gently,  al- 
most pitifully. 

She  nodded,  then  paled;  he  drew  a  big 
chair  toward  her,  for  her  knees  trembled  a 
little;  and  she  sat  down  with  an  appealing 
glance  that  ought  to  have  made  him  ashamed 
of  himself. 

"  What  has  frightened  you  ?  "  inquired  that 
meanest  of  men. 

"  I  was  in  my  studio — and  I  must  first  ex- 
plain to  you  that  for  weeks  and  weeks  I — I 
have  imagined  I  heard  sounds — "  She  looked 
carefully  around  her;  nothing  animate  was 
visible.  "  Sounds,"  she  repeated,  swallowing 
a  little  lump  in  her  white  throat,  "  like  the 
faint  squealing  and  squeaking  and  sniffing 
and  scratching  of — of  live  things.  I  asked  the 
janitor,  and  he  said  the  house  was  not  very 


The  Green  Mouse  25 

well  built  and  that  the  beams  and  wainscoting 
were  shrinking." 

"  Did  he  say  that  ?  "  inquired  the  young 
man,  thinking  of  the  bribes. 

"  Yes,  and  I  tried  to  believe  him.  And  one 
day  I  thought  I  heard  about  one  hundred 
canaries  singing,  and  I  know  I  did,  but  that 
idiot  janitor  said  they  were  the  sparrows  un- 
der the  eaves.  Then  one  day  when  your  door 
was  open,  and  I  was  coming  up  the  stairway, 
and  it  was  dark  in  the  entry,  something  big 
and  soft  flopped  across  the  carpet,  and — it 
being  exceedingly  common  to  scream — I 
didn't,  but  managed  to  get  past  it,  and  " — her 
violet  eyes  widened  with  horror — "  do  you 
know  what  that  soft,  floppy  thing  was?  It 
was  an  owl !  " 

He  was  aware  of  it ;  he  had  managed  to  se- 
cure the  escaped  bird  before  her  electric  sum- 
mons could  arouse  the  janitor. 

"  I  called  the  janitor,"  she  said,  "  and  he 
came  and  we  searched  the  entry;  but  there 
was  no  owl." 

He  appeared  to  be  greatly  impressed;  she 
recognized  the  sympathy  in  his  brown  eyes. 

"  That  wretched  janitor  declared  I  had  seen 
a  cat,"  she  resumed ;  "  and  I  could  not  per- 


26  The  Green  Mouse 

suade  him  otherwise.  For  a  week  I  scarcely 
dared  set  foot  on  the  stairs,  but  I  had  to — 
you  see,  I  live  at  home  and  only  come  to  my 
studio  to  paint." 

"  I  thought  you  lived  here,"  he  said,  sur- 
prised. 

"  Oh,  no.  I  have  my  studio — "  she  hesi- 
tated, then  smiled.  "  Everybody  makes  fun 
of  me,  and  I  suppose  they'll  laugh  me  out  of 
it,  but  I  detest  conventions,  and  I  did  hope 
I  had  talent  for  something  besides  frivolity." 

Her  gaze  wandered  around  his  room ;  then 
suddenly  the  possible  significance  of  her  un- 
conventional situation  brought  her  to  her  feet, 
serious  but  self-possessed. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  again,"  she  said,  "  but 
I  was  really  driven  out  of  my  studio — quite 
frightened,  I  confess." 

"  What  drove  you  out  ?  "  he  asked  guiltily. 

"  Something — you  can  scarcely  credit  it — 
and  I  dare  not  tell  the  janitor  for  fear  he  will 
think  me — queer."  She  raised  her  distressed 
and  lovely  eyes  again :  "  Oh,  please  believe 
that  I  did  see  a  bright  green  mouse !  " 

"  I  do  believe  it,"  he  said,  wincing. 

"  Thank  you.  I — I  know  perfectly  well 
how  it  sounds — and  I  know  that  horrid  people 


The  Green  Mouse  27 

see  things  like  that,  but " — she  spoke  pite- 
ously — "  I  had  only  one  glass  of  claret  at 
luncheon,  and  I  am  perfectly  healthy  in  body 
and  mind.  How  could  I  see  such  a  thing  if 
it  was  not  there  ?  " 

"  It  was  there/'  he  declared. 

"  Do  you  really  think  so  ?  A  green — bright 
green  mouse?  " 

"  Haven't  a  doubt  of  it,"  he  assured  her ; 
"  saw  one  myself  the  other  day." 

"Where?" 

"  On  the  floor — "  he  made  a  vague  gesture. 
"  There's  probably  a  crack  between  your 
studio  and  my  wall,  and  the  little  rascal  crept 
into  your  place." 

She  stood  looking  at  him  uncertainly: 
"  Are  there  really  such  things  as  green 
mice?" 

"  Well,"  he  explained,  "  I  fancy  this  one 
was  originally  white.  Somebody  probably 
dyed  it  green." 

"  But  who  on  earth  would  be  silly  enough 
to  do  such  a  thing?" 

His  ears  grew  red — he  felt  them  doing  it. 

After  a  moment  she  said :  "  I  am  glad  you 
told  me  that  you,  too,  saw  this  unspeakable 
mouse.  I  have  decided  to  write  to  the  owners 


28  The  Green  Mouse 

of  the  house  and  request  an  immediate  inves- 
tigation. Would — would  it  be  too  much  to 
ask  you  to  write  also  ?  " 

"  Are  you — you  going  to  write  ?  "  he  asked, 
appalled. 

"  Certainly.  Either  some  dreadful  creature 
here  keeps  a  bird  store  and  brings  home 
things  that  escape,  or  the  house  is  infested. 
I  don't  care  what  the  janitor  says;  I  did  hear 
squeals  and  whines  and  whimpers !  " 

"  Suppose — suppose  we  wait,"  he  began 
lamely;  but  at  that  moment  her  blue  eyes 
widened;  she  caught  him  convulsively  by 
the  arm,  pointing,  one  snowy  finger  out- 
stretched. 

"  Oh-h !  "  she  said  hysterically,  and  the  next 
instant  was  standing  upon  a  chair,  pale  as  a 
ghost.  It  was  a  wonder  she  had  not  mounted 
the  dresser,  too,  for  there,  issuing  in  creepy 
single  file  from  the  wainscoting,  came  mice 
— mice  of  various  tints.  A  red  one  led  the 
grewsome  rank,  a  black  and  white  one  came 
next,  then  in  decorous  procession  followed 
the  guilty  green  one,  a  yellow  one,  a  blue 
one,  and  finally — horror  of  horrors  ! — a  red- 
white-and-blue  mouse,  carrying  a  tiny  Ameri- 
can flag. 


The  Green  Mouse  29 

He  turned  a  miserable  face  toward  her ;  she, 
eyes  dilated,  frozen  to  a  statue,  saw  him  ad- 
vance, hold  out  a  white  wand — saw  the  un- 
canny procession  of  mice  mount  the  stick  and 
form  into  a  row,  tails  hanging  down — saw 
him  carry  the  creatures  to  a  box  and  dump 
them  in. 

He  was  trying  to  speak  now.  She  heard 
him  stammer  something  about  the  escape  of 
the  mice ;  she  heard  him  asking  her  pardon. 
Dazed,  she  laid  her  hand  in  his  as  he  aided 
her  to  descend  to  the  floor ;  nerveless,  speech- 
less, she  sank  into  the  big  chair,  horror  still 
dilating  her  eyes. 

"  It's  all  up  with  me,"  he  said  slowly,  "  if 
you  write  to  the  owners.  I've  bribed  the 
janitor  to  say  nothing.  I'm  dreadfully  mor- 
tified that  these  things  have  happened  to  an- 
noy you." 

The  color  came  back  into  her  face ;  amaze- 
ment dominated  her  anger.  "  But  why — why 
do  you  keep  such  creatures  ?  " 

"  Why  shouldn't  I  ?  "  he  asked.  "  It  is  my 
profession." 

"Your— what?" 

"  My  profession,"  he  repeated  doggedly. 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  revolted,  "  that  is  not  true ! 


30  The  Green  Mouse 

You  are  a  gentleman — I  know  who  you  are 
perfectly  well ! " 

"  Who  am  I  ?  " 

She  called  him  by  name,  almost  angrily. 

"  Well,"  he  said  sullenly,  "  what  of  it?  If 
you  have  investigated  my  record  you  must 
know  I  am  as  poor  as  these  miserable  mice." 

"  I — I  know  it.  But  you  are  a  gentle- 
man  " 

"  I  am  a  mountebank,"  he  said ;  "  I  mean  a 
mountebank  in  its  original  interpretation. 
There's  neither  sense  nor  necessity  for  me  to 
deny  it." 

"  I — I  don't  understand  you,"  she  whis- 
pered, shocked. 

"  Why,  I  do  monkey  tricks  to  entertain 
people,"  he  replied,  forcing  a  laugh,  "  or 
rather,  I  hope  to  do  a  few — and  be  paid  for 
them.  I  fancy  every  man  finds  his  own  level ; 
I've  found  mine,  apparently." 

Her  face  was  inscrutable ;  she  lay  back  in 
the  great  chair,  watching  him. 

"  I  have  a  little  money  left,"  he  said ; 
"  enough  to  last  a  day  or  two.  Then  I  am 
to  be  paid  for  entertaining  some  people  at 
Seabright;  and,"  he  added  with  that  very  at- 
tractive smile  of  his  from  which  all  bitterness 


The  Green  Mouse  31 

had  departed,  "  and  that  will  be  the  first 
money  I  ever  earned  in  all  my  life." 

She  was  young  enough  to  be  fascinated, 
child  enough  to  feel  the  little  lump  in  her 
throat  rising.  She  knew  he  was  poor;  her 
sisters  had  told  her  that ;  but  she  had  sup- 
posed it  to  be  only  comparative  poverty — just 
as  her  cousins,  for  instance,  had  scarcely 
enough  to  keep  more  than  two  horses  in  town 
and  only  one  motor.  But  want — actual  need 
— she  had  never  dreamed  of  in  his  case — she 
could  scarcely  understand  it  even  now — he 
was  so  well  groomed,  so  attractive,  fairly  ra- 
diating good  breeding  and  the  easy  financial 
atmosphere  she  was  accustomed  to. 

"  So  you  see,"  he  continued  gayly,  "  if  you 
complain  to  the  owners  about  green  mice, 
why,  I  shall  have  to  leave,  and,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  I  haven't  enough  money  to  go  any- 
where except — "  he  laughed. 

"  Where  ?  "  she  managed  to  say. 

"  The  Park.  I  was  joking,  of  course,"  he 
hastened  to  add,  for  she  had  turned  rather 
white. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  you  were  not  joking." 
And  as  he  made  no  reply :  "  Of  course,  I  shall 
not  write — now.  I  had  rather  my  studio  were 


32  The  Green  Mouse 

overrun  with  multicolored  mice — "  She 
stopped  with  something  almost  like  a  sob. 
He  smiled,  thinking  she  was  laughing. 

But  oh,  the  blow  for  her !  In  her  youthful 
enthusiasm  she  had  always,  from  the  first  time 
they  had  encountered  one  another,  been  sen- 
sitively aware  of  this  tall,  clean-cut,  attractive 
young  fellow.  And  by  and  by  she  learned  his 
name  and  asked  her  sisters  about  him,  and 
when  she  heard  of  his  recent  ruin  and  with- 
drawal from  the  gatherings  of  his  kind  her 
youth  flushed  to  its  romantic  roots,  warming 
all  within  her  toward  this  splendid  and  radi- 
ant young  man  who  lived  so  nobly,  so  proudly 
aloof.  And  then — miracle  of  Manhattan  ! — 
he  had  proved  his  courage  before  her  dazed 
eyes — rising  suddenly  out  of  the  very  earth 
to  save  her  from  a  fate  which  her  eager  desire 
painted  blacker  every  time  she  embellished  the 
incident.  And  she  decorated  the  memory  of 
it  every  day. 

And  now!  Here,  beside  her,  was  this 
prince  among  men,  her  champion,  beaten  to 
his  ornamental  knees  by  Fate,  and  contem- 
plating a  miserable,  uncertain  career  to  keep 
his  godlike  body  from  actual  starvation.  And 
she — she  with  more  money  than  even  she 


The  Green  Mouse  33 

knew  what  to  do  with,  powerless  to  aid  him, 
prevented  from  flinging  open  her  check  book 
and  bidding  him  to  write  and  write  till  he 
could  write  no  more. 

A  memory — a  thought  crept  in.  Where 
had  she  heard  his  name  connected  with  her 
father's  name?  In  Ophir  Steel?  Certainly; 
and  was  it  not  this  young  man's  father  who 
had  laid  the  foundation  for  her  father's  for- 
tune? She  had  heard  some  such  thing, 
somewhere. 

He  said :  "  I  had  no  idea  of  boring  anybody 
— you  least  of  all — with  my  woes.  Indeed,  I 
haven't  any  sorrows  now,  because  to-day  I 
received  my  first  encouragement;  and  no 
doubt  I'll  be  a  huge  success.  Only — I 
thought  it  best  to  make  it  clear  why  it  would 
do  me  considerable  damage  just  now  if  you 
should  write." 

"  Tell  me,"  she  said  tremulously,  "  is  there 
anything — anything  I  can  do  to — to  balance 
the  deep  debt  of  gratitude  I  owe  you " 

"What  debt?"  he  asked,  astonished. 
"Oh!  that?  Why,  that  is  no  debt— except 
that  I  was  happy — perfectly  and  serenely 
happy  to  have  had  that  chance  to — to  hear 
your  voice " 


34  The  Green  Mouse 

"  You  were  brave,"  she  said  hastily.  "  You 
may  make  as  light  of  it  as  you  please,  but  I 
know/' 

"  So  do  I,"  he  laughed,  enchanted  with  the 
rising  color  in  her  cheeks. 

"  No,  you  don't ;  you  don't  know  how  I 
felt — how  afraid  I  was  to  show  how  deeply — 
deeply  I  felt.  I  felt  it  so  deeply  that  I  did  not 
even  tell  my  sisters,"  she  added  naively. 

"  Your  sisters  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  you  know  them."  And  as  he  re- 
mained silent  she  said :  "  Do  you  not  know 
who  I  am  ?  Do  you  not  even  know  my  name  ?  " 

He  shook  his  head,  laughing. 

"  I'd  have  given  all  I  had  to  know ;  but,  of 
course,  I  could  not  ask  the  servants ! " 

Surprise,  disappointment,  hurt  pride  that  he 
had  had  no  desire  to  know  gave  quick  place 
to  a  comprehension  that  set  a  little  thrill 
tingling  her  from  head  to  foot.  His  restraint 
was  the  nicest  homage  ever  rendered  her; 
she  saw  that  instantly;  and  the  straight  look 
she  gave  him  out  of  her  clear  eyes  took  his 
breath  away  for  a  second. 

"  Do  you  remember  Sacharissa  ? "  she 
asked. 

"  I  do — certainly !     I  always  thought " 


The  Green  Mouse  35 

"  What  ?  "  she  said,  smiling. 

He  muttered  something  about  eyes  and 
white  skin  and  a  trick  of  the  heavy  lids. 

She  was  perfectly  at  ease  now;  she  leaned 
back  in  her  chair,  studying  him  calmly. 

"  Suppose,"  she  said,  "  people  could  see  me 
here  now." 

"•It  would  end  your  artistic  career,"  he  re- 
plied, laughing ;  "  and  fancy !  I  took  you  for 
the  sort  that  painted  for  a  bare  existence"!  " 

"  And  I— I  took  you  for " 

"  Something  very  different  than  what  I 
am." 

"  In  one  way — not  in  others." 

"  Oh !  I  look  the  mountebank  ?  " 

"  I  shall  not  explain  what  I  mean,"  she 
said  with  heightened  color,  and  rose  from  her 
chair.  "  As  there  are  no  more  green  mice  to 
peep  out  at  me  from  behind  my  easel,"  she 
added,  "  I  can  have  no  excuse  from  abandon- 
ing art  any  longer.  Can  I  ?  " 

The  trailing  sweetness  of  the  inquiry  was 
scarcely  a  challenge,  yet  he  dared  take  it  up. 

"  You  asked  me,"  he  said,  "  whether  you 
could  do  anything  for  me." 

"  Can  I  ?  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Yes." 

4 


36  The  Green  Mouse 

"  I  will— I  am  glad— tell  me  what  to  do  ?  " 

"  Why,  it's  only  this.  I've  got  to  go  before 
an  audience  of  two  hundred  people  and  do 
things.  I've  had  practice  here  by  myself,  but 
— but  if  you  don't  mind  I  should  like  to  try 
it  before  somebody — you.  Do  you  mind  ?  " 

She  stood  there,  slim,  blue-eyed,  reflecting ; 
then  innocently :  "  If  I've  compromised  my- 
self the  damage  was  done  long  ago,  wasn't  it  ? 
They're  going  to  take  away  my  studio  any- 
how, so  I  might  as  well  have  as  much  pleas- 
ure as  I  can." 

And  she  sat  down,  gracefully,  linking  her 
white  fingers  over  her  knees. 


» 


IV 

AN    IDEAL   IDOL 


A   Chapter  Devoted  to  the  Proposition  that 
All  Mankind  Are  Born  of  Woman 

HE  began  by  suddenly  filling  the  air 
with  canary  birds;   they  flew   and 
chirped    and    fluttered    about    her 
head,  until,  bewildered,  she  shrank  back,  al- 
most frightened  at  the  golden  hurricane. 

To  reassure  her  he  began  doing  incredible 
things  with  the  big  silver  hoops,  forming 
chains  and  linked  figures  under  her  amazed 
eyes,  although  each  hoop  seemed  solid  and 
without  a  break  in  its  polished  circumference. 
Then,  one  by  one,  he  tossed  the  rings  up  and 
they  vanished  in  mid-air  before  her  very  eyes. 
37 


38  The  Green  Mouse 

"  How  did  you  do  that  ?  "  she  cried,  en- 
chanted. 

He  laughed  and  produced  the  big,  white 
Persian  cats,  changed  them  into  kittens,  then 
into  birds  and  butterflies,  and  finally  into  a 
bowl  full  of  big,  staring  goldfish.  Then  he 
picked  up  a  ladle,  dipped  out  the  fish,  care- 
fully fried  them  over  an  electric  lamp,  dumped 
them  from  the  smoking  frying  pan  back  into 
the  water,  where  they  quietly  swam  off  again, 
goggling  their  eyes  in  astonishment. 

"  That,"  said  the  girl,  excitedly,  "  is  mirac- 
ulous !  " 

"  Isn't  it  ?  "  he  said,  delighted  as  a  boy  at 
her  praise.  "  What  card  will  you  choose  ?  " 

And  he  handed  her  a  pack. 

"  The  ace  of  hearts,  if  you  please." 

"  Draw  it  from  the  pack." 

"  Any  card  ?  "  she  inquired.  "  Oh !  how  on 
earth  did  you  make  me  draw  the  ace  of 
hearts?" 

"  Hold  it  tightly,"  he  warned  her. 

She  clutched  it  in  her  pretty  fingers. 

"  Are  you  sure  you  hold  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Perfectly." 

"Look!" 

She  looked  and  found  that  it  was  the  queen 


An  Ideal  Idol  39 

of  diamonds  she  held  so  tightly ;  but,  looking 
again  to  reassure  herself,  she  was  astonished 
to  find  that  the  card  was  the  jack  of  clubs. 
"  Tear  it  up,"  he  said.  She  tore  it  into  small 
pieces. 

"  Throw  them  into  the  air !  " 

She  obeyed,  and  almost  cried  out  to  see 
them  take  fire  in  mid-air  and  float  away  in 
ashy  flakes. 

Face  flushed,  eyes  brilliant,  she  turned  to 
him,  hanging  on  his  every  movement,  every 
expression. 

Before  her  rapt  eyes  the  multicolored  mice 
danced  jigs  on  slack  wires,  then  were  careful- 
ly rolled  up  into  little  balls  of  paper  which 
immediately  began  to  swell  until  each  was  as 
big  as  a  football.  These  burst  open,  and  out 
of  each  football  of  white  paper  came  kittens, 
turtles,  snakes,  chickens,  ducks,  and  finally 
two  white  rabbits  with  silly  pink  eyes  that 
began  gravely  waltzing  round  and  round  the 
room. 

"  Please  stand  up  and  shake  your  skirts," 
he  said. 

She  rose  hastily  and  obeyed;  a  rain  of  sil- 
ver coins  fell,  then  gold,  then  banknotes,  lit- 
tering the  floor.  Then  precious  stones  began 


40  The  Green  Mouse 

to  drop  about  her ;  she  shook  them  from  her 
hair,  her  collar,  her  neck;  she  clenched  her 
hands  in  nervous  amazement,  but  inside  each 
tight  little  fist  she  felt  something,  and  open- 
ing her  fingers  she  fairly  showered  the  floor 
with  diamonds. 

"  Can't  you  save  one  for  me  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  I  really  need  it."  But  when  again  she 
looked  for  the  glittering  heap  at  her  feet,  it 
was  gone ;  and,  search  as  she  might,  not  one 
coin,  not  one  gem  remained. 

Glancing  up  in  dismay  she  found  herself 
in  a  perfect  storm  of  white  butterflies — no, 
they  were  red — no,  green ! 

"  Is  there  anything  in  this  world  you  de- 
sire ?  "  he  asked  her. 

"  A — a  glass  of  water " 

She  was  already  holding  it  in  her  hands, 
and  she  cried  out  in  amazement,  spilling  the 
brimming  glass ;  but  no  water  fell,  only  a  rain 
of  little  crimson  flames. 

"  I  can't — can't  drink  this — can  I  ?  "  she  fal- 
tered. 

"  With  perfect  safety,"  he  smiled,  and  she 
tasted  it. 

"  Taste  it  again,"  he  said. 

She  tried  it ;  it  was  lemonade. 


An  Ideal  Idol  41 

"  Again." 

It  was  ginger  ale. 

"  Once  more." 

She  stared  at  the  glass,  frothing  with  ice- 
cream soda;  there  was  a  long  silver  spoon 
in  it,  too. 

Enchanted,  she  lay  back,  savoring  her  ice, 
shyly  watching  him. 

He  went  on  gayly  doing  uncanny  or 
charming  things ;  her  eyes  were  tired,  dazzled, 
but  not  too  weary  to  watch  him,  though  she 
scarcely  followed  the  marvelous  objects  that 
appeared  and  vanished  and  glittered  and 
flamed  under  his  ceaselessly  busy  hands. 

She  did  notice  with  a  shudder  the  appear- 
ance of  an  owl  that  sat  for  a  while  on  his 
shoulder  and  then  turned  into  a  big  fur  muff 
which  was  all  right  as  long  as  he  held  it,  but 
walked  away  on  four  legs  when  he  tossed  it 
to  the  floor. 

A  shower  of  brilliant  things  followed  like 
shooting  stars ;  two  or  three  rose  trees  grew, 
budded,  and  bloomed  before  her  eyes;  and 
he  laid  the  fresh,  sweet  blossoms  in  her  hands. 
They  turned  to  violets  later,  but  that  did  not 
matter ;  nothing  mattered  any  longer  as  long 
as  she  could  lie  there  and  gaze  at  him — the 


42  The  Green  Mouse 

most  splendid  man  her  maid-en  eyes  had  ever 
unclosed  upon. 

About  two  thousand  yards  of  brilliant  rib- 
bons suddenly  fell  from  the  ceiling;  she 
looked  at  him  with  something  perilously  close 
to  a  sigh.  Out  of  an  old  hat  he  produced  a 
cage  full  of  parrots ;  every  parrot  repeated  her 
first  name  decorously,  monotonously,  until 
packed  back  into  the  hat  and  stuffed  into  a 
box  which  was  then  set  on  fire. 

Her  heart  was  pretty  full  now ;  for  she  was 
only  eighteen  and  she  had  been  considering 
his  poverty.  So  when  in  due  time  the  box 
burned  out  and  from  the  black  and  charred 
debris  the  parrots  stepped  triumphantly  forth, 
gravely  repeating  her  name  in  unison ;  and 
when  she  saw  that  the  entertainment  was  at 
an  end,  she  rose,  setting  her  ice-cream  soda 
upon  a  table,  and,  although  the  glass  instant- 
ly changed  into  a  teapot,  she  walked  straight 
up  to  him  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"  I've  had  a  perfectly  lovely  time,"  she  said. 
"  And  I  want  to  say  to  you  that  I  have  been 
thinking  of  several  things,  and  one  is  that  it 
is  perfectly  ridiculous  for  you  to  be  poor." 

"  It  is  rather  ridiculous,"  he  admitted,  sur- 
prised. 


An  Ideal  Idol  43 

"  Isn't  it !  And  no  need  of  it  at  all.  Your 
father  made  a  fortune  for  my  father.  All  you 
have  to  do  is  to  let  my  father  make  a  fortune 
for  you." 

"Is  that  all?"  he  asked,  laughing. 

"  Of  course.  Why  did  you  not  tell  him  so  ? 
Have  you  seen  him  ?  " 

"  No,"  he  said  gravely. 

"Why  not?" 

"  I  saw  others — I  did  not  care  to  try — any 
more — friends." 

"Will  you— now?" 

He  shook  his  head. 

"Then  I  will." 

"  Please  don't,"  he  said  quietly.  Her 
hand  still  lay  in  his;  she  looked  up  at  him; 
her  eyes  were  starry  bright  and  a  little 
moist. 

"  I  simply  can't  stand  this,"  she  said, 
steadying  her  voice. 

"What?" 

"  Your — your  distress — "  She  choked ;  her 
sensitive  mouth  trembled. 

"  Good  Heavens  !  "  he  breathed ;  "  do  you 
care ! " 

"  Care — care,"  she  stammered.  "  You 
saved  my  life  with  a  laugh !  You  face  st-star- 


44  The  Green  Mouse 

vation  with  a  laugh !  Your  father  made  mine ! 
Care?  Yes,  I  care!" 

But  she  had  bent  her  head;  a  bright  tear 
fell,  spangling  his  polished  shoes ;  the  pulsat- 
ing seconds  passed;  he  laid  his  other  hand 
above  both  of  hers  which  he  held,  and  stood  si- 
lent, stunned,  scarcely  daring  to  understand. 

Nor  was  it  here  he  could  understand  or 
even  hope — his  instinct  held  him  stupid  and 
silent.  Presently  he  released  her  hands. 

She  said  "  Good-by  "  calmly  enough ;  he 
followed  her  to  the  door  and  opened  it, 
watching  her  pass  through  the  hall  to  her  own 
door.  And  there  she  paused  and  looked 
back ;  and  he  found  himself  beside  her  again. 

"  Only,'*  she  began,  "  only  don't  do  all 
those  beautiful  magic  things  for  any — any- 
body else — will  you?  I  wish  to  have — have 
them  all  for  myself — to  share  them  with  no 
one " 

He  held  her  hands  imprisoned  again.  "  I 
will  never  do  one  of  those  things  for  anybody 
but  you,"  he  said  unsteadily. 

"  Truly?  "    Her  face  caught  fire. 

"  Yes,  truly." 

"  But  how — how,  then,  can  you — can " 

"  I  don't  care  what  happens  to  me ! "  he 


An  Ideal  Idol  45 

said.  To  look  at  him  nobody  would  have 
thought  him  young  enough  to  say  that  sort 
of  thing. 

"  I  care,"  she  said,  releasing  her  hands  and 
stepping  back  into  her  studio. 

For  a  moment  her  lovely,  daring  face  swam 
before  his  eyes;  then,  in  the  next  moment, 
she  was  in  his  arms,  crying  her  eyes  out 
against  his  shoulder,  his  lips  pressed  to  her 
bright  hair. 

And  that  was  all  right  in  its  way,  too; 
madder  things  have  happened  in  our  times; 
but  nothing  madder  ever  happened  than  a 
large,  bald  gentleman  who  came  up  the  stairs 
in  a  series  of  bounces  and  planted  his  legs 
apart  and  tightened  his  pudgy  grip  upon  his 
malacca  walking  stick,  and  confronted  them 
with  distended  eyes  and  waistband. 

In  vigorous  but  incoherent  English  he 
begged  to  know  whether  this  scene  was  part 
of  an  education  in  art. 

"  Papah,"  she  said  calmly,  "  you  are  just 
in  time.  Go  into  the  studio  and  I'll  come  in 
one  moment." 

Then  giving  her  lover  both  hands  and  look- 
ing at  him  with  all  her  soul  in  her  young 
eyes :  "  I  love  you ;  I'll  marry  you.  And  if 


46  The  Green  Mouse 

there's  trouble  " — she  smiled  upon  her  fran- 
tic father— "if  there  is  trouble  I  will  fol- 
low you  about  the  country  exhibiting  green 
mice " 

"  What !  "  thundered  her  father. 

"  Green  mice,"  she  repeated  with  an  ador- 
able smile  at  her  lover — "  unless  my  father 
finds  a  necessity  for  you  in  his  business — 
with  a  view  to  partnership.  And  I'm  going" 
to  let  you  arrange  that  together.  Good-by." 

And  she  entered  her  studio,  closing  the 
door  behind  her,  leaving  the  two  men  con- 
fronting one  another  in  the  entry. 

For  one  so  young  she  had  much  wisdom 
and  excellent  taste;  and  listening,  she  heard 
her  father  explode  in  one  lusty  Saxon  word. 
He  always  said  it  when  beaten ;  it  was  the  be- 
ginning of  the  end,  and  the  end  of  the  sweet- 
est beginning  that  ever  dawned  on  earth  for 
a  maid  since  the  first  sunbeam  stole  into 
Eden. 

So  she  sat  down  on  her  little  camp  stool 
before  her  easel  and  picked  up  a  hand  glass ; 
and,  sitting  there,  carefully  removed  all  traces 
of  tears  from  her  wet  and  lovely  eyes  with 
the  cambric  hem  of  her  painting  apron. 


An  Ideal  Idol  47 

"  Damnation !  "  repeated  Mr.  Carr,  "  am 
I  to  understand  that  the  only  thing  you  can 
do  for  a  living  is  to  go  about  with  a  troupe  of 
trained  mice  ?  " 

"  I've  invented  a  machine,"  observed  the 
young  man,  modestly.  "  It  ought  to  be  worth 
millions — if  you'd  care  to  finance  it." 

"  The  idea  is  utterly  repugnant  to  me !  " 
shouted  her  father. 

The  young  man  reddened.  "  If  you 
wouldn't  mind  examining  it — "  He  drew 
from  his  pocket  a  small,  delicately  contrived 
bit  of  clockwork.  "  This  is  the  machine " 

"  I  don't  want  to  see  it !  " 

"  You  have  seen  it.  Do  you  mind  sitting 
down  a  moment?  Be  careful  of  that  kitten! 
Kindly  take  this  chair.  Thank  you.  Now,  if 
you  would  be  good  enough  to  listen  for  ten 
minutes " 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  good  enough !  Do  you 
hear!" 

"  Yes,  I  hear,"  said  young  Destyn,  pa- 
tiently. "  And  as  I  was  going  to  explain,  the 
earth  is  circumscribed  by  wireless  currents 
of  electricity " 

"  I— dammit,  sir " 

"  But  those  are  not  the  only  invisible  cur- 


48  The  Green  Mouse 

rents  that  are  ceaselessly  flowing  around  our 
globe !  "  pursued  the  young  man,  calmly.  "  Do 
you  see  this  machine  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't ! "  snarled  the  other. 

"Then—"  And,  leaning  closer,  William 
Augustus  Destyn  whispered  into  Bushwyck 
Carr's  fat,  red  ear. 

"  What !  !  !  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  You  can't  prove  it !  " 

"  Watch  me." 

Ethelinda  had  dried  her  eyes.  Every  few 
minutes  she  glanced  anxiously  at  the  little 
French  clock  over  her  easel. 

"  What  on  earth  can  they  be  doing  ?  "  she 
murmured.  And  when  the  long  hour  struck 
she  arose  with  resolution  and  knocked  at  the 
door. 

"  Come  in,"  said  her  father,  irritably, "  but 
don't  interrupt.  William  and  I  are  engaged 
in  a  very  important  business  transaction." 


SACHARISSA 

Treating   of   Certain   Scientific   Events  Suc- 
ceeding the  Wedding  Journey  of  William 
and  Ethelinda 

SACHARISSA  took  the  chair.  She  knew 
nothing  about  parliamentary  procedure ; 
neither  did  her  younger,  married  sister, 
Ethelinda,   nor  the   recently  acquired  family 
brother-in-law,  William  Augustus   Destyn. 

"  The  meeting  will  come  to  order,"  said 
Sacharissa,  and  her  brother-in-law  reluctantly 
relinquished  his  new  wife's  hand — all  but  one 
finger. 

49 


50  The  Green  Mouse 

"  Miss  Chairman/'  he  began,  rising  to  his 
feet. 

The  chair  recognized  him  and  bit  into  a 
chocolate. 

"  I  move  that  our  society  be  known  as 
The  Green  Mouse,  Limited." 

"  Why  limited  ?  "  asked  Sacharissa. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  replied  her  sister,  warmly. 

"  Well,  what  does  your  young  man  mean 
by  limited  ?  " 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Linda,  "  that  he  means 
it  is  to  be  the  limit.  Don't  you,  William  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Destyn,  gravely ;  and  the 
motion  was  put  and  carried. 

"Rissa,  dear!" 

The  chair  casually  recognized  her  younger 
sister. 

"  I  propose  that  the  object  of  this  society 
be  to  make  its  members  very,  very  wealthy." 

The  motion  was  carried ;  Linda  picked  up 
a  scrap  of  paper  and  began  to  figure  up  the 
possibility  of  a  new  touring  car. 

Then  Destyn  arose ;  the  chair  nodded  to 
him  and  leaned  back,  playing  a  tattoo  with 
her  pencil  tip  against  her  snowy  teeth. 

He  began  in  his  easy,  agreeable  voice, 
looking  across  at  his  pretty  wife : 


Sacharissa  5 1 


:<  You  know,  dearest — and  Sacharissa,  over 
there,  is  also  aware — that,  in  the  course  of 
my  economical  experiments  in  connection  with 
your  father's  Wireless  Trust,  I  have  accident- 
ally discovered  how  to  utilize  certain  brand- 
new  currents  of  an  extraordinary  character." 

Sacharissa's  expression  became  skeptical; 
Linda  watched  her  husband  in  unfeigned  ad- 
miration. 

"  These  new  and  hitherto  unsuspected  cur- 
rents," continued  Destyn  modestly,  "  are  not 
electrical  but  psychical.  Yet,  like  wireless 
currents,  their  flow  eternally  encircles  the 
earth.  These  currents,  I  believe,  have  their 
origin  in  that  great  unknown  force  which,  for 
lack  of  a  better  name,  we  call  fate,  or  predes- 
tination. And  I  am  convinced  that  by  in- 
tercepting one  of  these  currents  it  is  possible 
to  connect  the  subconscious  personalities  of 
two  people  of  opposite  sex  who,  although 
ultimately  destined  for  one  another  since  the 
beginning  of  things,  have,  through  successive 
incarnations,  hitherto  missed  the  final  con- 
summation— marriage  ! — which  was  the  pur- 
pose of  their  creation." 

"  Bill,  dear,"  sighed  Linda,  "  how  exquis- 
itely you  explain  the  infinite." 
5 


52  The  Green  Mouse 

"  Fudge  !  "  said  Sacharissa ;  "  go  on,  Will- 
iam." 

"That's  all/'  said  Destyn.  "We  agreed 
to  put  in  a  thousand  dollars  apiece  for  me 
to  experiment  with.  I've  perfected  the  in- 
strument— here  it  is." 

He  drew  from  his  waistcoat  pocket  a  small, 
flat  jeweler's  case  and  took  out  a  delicate 
machine  resembling  the  complicated  interior 
of  a  watch. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  "  with  this  tiny  machine 
concealed  in  my  waistcoat  pocket,  I  walk  up 
to  any  man  and,  by  turning  a  screw  like  the 
stem  of  a  watch,  open  the  microscopical  re- 
ceiver. Into  the  receiver  flow  all  psychical 
emanations  from  that  unsuspicious  citizen. 
The  machine  is  charged,  positively.  Then  I 
saunter  up  to  some  man,  place  the  instrument 
on  a  table — like  that — touch  a  lever.  Do  you 
see  that  hair  wire  of  Rosium  uncoil  like  a 
tentacle  ?  It  is  searching,  groping  for  the  in- 
visible, negative,  psychical  current  which  will 
carry  its  message." 

"  To  whom  ?  "  asked  Sacharissa. 

"  To  the  subconscious  personality  of  the 
only  woman  for  whom  he  was  created,  the 
only  woman  on  earth  whose  psychic  person- 


Sacharissa  53 


ality  is  properly  attuned  to  intercept  that  wire- 
less greeting  and  respond  to  it." 

"  How  can  you  tell  whether  she  re- 
sponds ?  "  asked  Sacharissa,  incredulously. 

He  pointed  to  the  hair  wire  of  Rosium : 

"  I  watch  that.  The  instant  that  the  psy- 
chical current  reaches  and  awakens  her, 
crack ! — a  minute  point  of  blue  incandescence 
tips  the  tentacle.  It's  done;  psychical  com- 
munication is  established.  And  that  man 
and  that  woman,  wherever  they  may  be  on 
earth,  surely,  inexorably,  will  be  drawn  to- 
gether, 'even  from  the  uttermost  corners  of 
the  world,  to  fulfill  that  for  which  they  were 
destined  since  time  began." 

There  was  a  semirespectful  silence ;  Linda 
looked  at  the  little  jewel-like  machine  with  a 
slight  shudder^  Sacharissa  shrugged  her 
young  shoulders. 

"  How  much  of  this,"  said  she,  "  is  theory 
and  how  much  is  fact? — for,  William,  you  al- 
ways were  something  of  a  poet." 

"  I  don't  know.  A  month  ago  I  tried 
it  on  your  father's  footman,  and  in  a 
week  he'd  married  a  perfectly  strange  parlor 
maid." 

"  Oh,  they  do  such  things,  anyway,"  ob- 


54  The  Green  Mouse 

served  Sacharissa,  and  added,  unconvinced: 
"  Did  that  tentacle  burn  blue  ?  " 

"  It  certainly  did,"  said  Destyn. 

Linda  murmured :  "  I  believe  in  it.  Let's 
issue  stock." 

"  To  issue  stock  is  one  thing,"  said  Destyn, 
"  to  get  people  to  buy  it  is  another.  You  and 
I  may  believe  in  Green  Mouse,  Limited,  but 
the  rest  of  the  world  is  always  from  beyond 
the  Mississippi." 

"  The  thing  to  do,"  said  Linda,  "  is  to  prove 
your  theory  by  practicing  on  people.  They 
may  not  like  the  idea,  but  they'll  be  so  grate- 
ful, when  happily  and  unexpectedly  married, 
that  they'll  buy  stock." 

"  Or  give  us  testimonials,"  added  Sachar- 
issa, "  that  their  bliss  was  entirely  due  to  a 
single  dose  of  Green  Mouse,  Limited." 

"  Don't  be  flippant,"  said  Linda.  "  Think 
what  William's  invention  means  to  the  world ! 
Think  of  the  time  it  will  save  young  men 
barking  up  wrong  trees !  Think  of  the  trou- 
ble saved — no  more  doubt,  no  timidity,  no 
hesitation,  no  speculation,  no  opposition  from 
parents." 

"  Any  of  our  clients,"  added  Destyn,  "  can 
be  instantly  switched  on  to  a  private  psychi- 


Sacharissa  55 


cal  current  which  will  clinch  the  only  girl  in 
the  world.  Engagements  will  be  superfluous ; 
those  two  simply  can't  get  away  from  each 
other." 

"  If  that  were  true/'  observed  Sacharissa, 
"  it  would  be  most  unpleasant.  There  would 
be  no  fun  in  it.  However,"  she  added,  smil- 
ing, "  I  don't  believe  in  your  theory  or  your 
machine,  William.  It  would  take  more  than 
that  combination  to  make  me  marry  any- 
body." 

"  Then  we're  not  going  to  issue  stock  ?  " 
asked  Linda.  "  I  do  need  so  many  new  and 
expensive  things." 

"We've  got  to  experiment  a  little  further, 
first,"  said  Destyn. 

Sacharissa  laughed :  "  You  blindfold  me, 
give  me  a  pencil  and  lay  the  Social  Register 
before  me.  Whatever  name  I  mark  you  are  to 
experiment  with." 

"  Don't  mark  any  of  our  friends,"  began 
Linda. 

"  How  can  I  tell  whom  I  may  choose.  It's 
fair  for  everybody.  Come;  do  you  promise 
to  abide  by  it — you  two?" 

They  promised  doubtfully. 

"  So  do  I,  then,"  said  Sacharissa.    "  Hurry 


5<3  The  Green  Mouse 

up  and  blindfold  me,  somebody.  The  'bus 
will  be  here  in  half  an  hour,  and  you  know 
how  father  acts  when  kept  waiting." 

Linda  tied  her  eyes  with  a  handkerchief, 
gave  her  a  pencil  and  seated  herself  on  an 
arm  of  the  chair  watching  the  pencil  hover- 
ing over  the  pages  of  the  Social  Register 
which  her  sister  was  turning  at  hazard. 

"  This  page,"  announced  Sacharissa,  "  and 
this  name !  "  marking  it  with  a  quick  stroke. 

Linda  gave  a  stifled  cry  and  attempted  to 
arrest  the  pencil;  but  the  moving  finger  had 
written. 

"  Whom  have  I  selected  ?  "  inquired  the 
girl,  whisking  the  handkerchief  from  her  eyes. 
"  What  are  you  having  a  fit  about,  Linda  ?  " 

And,  looking  at  the  page,  she  saw  that  she 
had  marked  her  own  name. 

"  We  must  try  it  again,"  said  Destyn,  hasti- 
ly. "  That  doesn't  count.  Tie  her  up,  Linda." 

"  But— that  wouldn't  be  fair,"  said  Sachar- 
issa, hesitating  whether  to  take  it  seriously 
or  laugh.  "  We  all  promised,  you  know.  I 
ought  to  abide  by  what  I've  done." 

"  Don't  be  silly,"  said  Linda,  preparing  the 
handkerchief  and  laying  it  across  her  sister's 
forehead. 


Sacharissa  57 


Sacharissa  pushed  it  away.  "  I  can't  break 
my  word,  even  to  myself/'  she  said,  laughing. 
"  I'm  not  afraid  of  that  machine." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  are  willing  to 
take  silly  chances  ? "  asked  Linda,  uneasily. 
"  /  believe  in  William's  machine  whether  you 
do  or  not.  And  I  don't  care  to  have  any  of 
the  family  experimented  with." 

"  If  I  were  willing  to  try  it  on  others  it 
would  be  cowardly  for  me  to  back  out  now/' 
said  Sacharissa,  forcing  a  smile ;  for  Destyn's 
and  Linda's  seriousness  was  beginning  to 
make  her  a  trifle  uncomfortable. 

"  Unless  you  want  to  marry  somebody 
pretty  soon  you'd  better  not  risk  it,"  said  Des- 
tyn,  gravely. 

"  You — you  don't  particularly  care  to 
marry  anybody,  just  now,  do  you,  dear?" 
asked  Linda. 

"  No,"  replied  her  sister,  scornfully. 

There  was  a  silence ;  Sacharissa,  uneasy,  bit 
her  underlip  and  sat  looking  at  the  uncanny 
machine. 

She  was  a  tall  girl,  prettily  formed,  one  of 
those  girls  with  long  limbs,  narrow,  delicate 
feet  and  ankles. 

That  sort  of  girl,  when  she  also  possesses  a 


58  The  Green  Mouse 

mass  of  chestnut  hair,  a  sweet  mouth  and 
gray  eyes,  is  calculated  to  cause  trouble. 

And  there  she  sat,  one  knee  crossed  over 
the  other,  slim  foot  swinging,  perplexed 
brows  bent  slightly  inward. 

"  I  can't  see  any  honorable  way  out  of  it," 
she  said  resolutely.  "  I  said  I'd  abide  by  the 
blindfolded  test." 

"  When  we  promised  we  weren't  thinking 
of  ourselves,"  insisted  Ethelinda. 

"  That  doesn't  release  us,"  retorted  her 
Puritan  sister. 

"Why?"  demanded  Linda.  "Suppose, 
for  example,  your  pencil  had  marked  Will- 
iam's name!  That  would  have  been  im-im- 
moral !  " 

"  Would  it  ?  "  asked  Sacharissa,  turning  her 
honest,  gray  eyes  on  her  brother-in-law. 

"I  don't  believe  it  would,"  he  said;  "I'd 
only  be  switched  on  to  Linda's  current  again." 
And  he  smiled  at  his  wife. 

Sacharissa  sat  thoughtful  and  serious, 
swinging  her  foot. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  at  length,  "  I  might  as 
well  face  it  at  once.  If  there's  anything  in 
this  instrument  we'll  all  know  it  pretty  soon. 
Turn  on  your  receiver,  Billy." 


Sacharissa  59 


"  Oh,"  cried  Linda,  tearfully,  "  don't  you 
do  it,  William  !  " 

"  Turn  it  on,"  repeated  Sacharissa.  "  I'm 
not  going  to  be  a  coward  and  break  faith  with 
myself,  and  you  both  know  it!  If  I've  got 
to  go  through  the  silliness  of  love  and  mar- 
riage I  might  as  well  know  who  the  bandar- 
log is  to  be.  ...  Anyway,  I  don't  really  be- 
lieve in  this  thing.  ...  I  can't  believe  in  it. 
.  .  .  Besides,  I've  a  mind  and  a  will  of  my 
own,  and  I  fancy  it  will  require  more  than 
amateur  psychical  experiments  to  change 
either.  Go  on,  Billy." 

"  You  mean  it  ?  "  he  asked,  secretly  grati- 
fied. 

"  Certainly,"  with  superb  affectation  of  in- 
difference. And  she  rose  and  faced  the  in- 
strument. 

Destyn  looked  at  his  wife.  He  was  dying 
to  try  it. 

"  Will !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  suppose  we  are 
not  going  to  like  Rissa's  possible  f-fiance ! 
Suppose  father  doesn't  like  him !  " 

"  You'll  all  probably  like  him  as  well  as  I 
shall,"  said  her  sister  defiantly.  "  Willy,  stop 
making  frightened  eyes  at  your  wife  and  start 
your  infernal  machine  !  " 


60  The  Green  Mouse 

There  was  a  vicious  click,  a  glitter  of  shift- 
ing clockwork,  a  snap,  and  it  was  done. 

"  Have  you  now,  theoretically,  got  my 
psychical  current  bottled  up  ? "  she  asked 
disdainfully.  But  her  lip  trembled  a  little. 

He  nodded,  looking  very  seriously  at  her. 

"  And  now  you  are  going  to  switch  me  on 
to  this  unknown  gentleman's  psychical  cur- 
rent?" 

"  Don't  let  him !  "  begged  Linda.  "  Billy, 
dear,  how  can  you  when  nobody  has  the  faint- 
est idea  who  the  creature  may  turn  out 
to  be!" 

"  Go  ahead !  "  interrupted  her  sister,  mask- 
ing misgiving  under  a  careless  smile. 

Click!  Up  shot  the  glittering,  quivering 
tentacle  of  Rosium,  vibrating  for  a  few  mo- 
ments like  a  thread  of  silver.  Suddenly  it  was 
tipped  with  a  blue  flash  of  incandescence. 

"Oh,  dear!  Oh,  dear!  There  he  is!" 
cried  Linda,  excitedly.  "  Rissy !  Rissy,  little 
sister,  what  have  you  done  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  she  said,  catching  her  breath. 
"  I  don't  believe  that  flash  means  anything. 
I  don't  feel  a  bit  different — not  the  least  bit. 
I  feel  perfectly  well  and  perfectly  calm.  I 
don't  love  anybody  and  I'm  not  going  to  love 


Sacharissa  61 


anybody — until  I  want  to,  and  that  will  prob- 
ably never  happen." 

However,  she  permitted  her  sister  to  take 
her  in  her  arms  and  pet  her.  It  was  rather 
curious  how  exceedingly  young  and  inex- 
perienced she  felt.  She  found  it  agreeable  to 
be  fussed  over  and  comforted  and  cradled, 
and  for  a  few  moments  she  suffered  Linda's 
solicitude  and  misgivings  in  silence.  After  a 
while,  however,  she  became  ashamed. 

"  Nothing  is  going  to  happen,  Linda,"  she 
said,  looking  dreamily  up  at  the  ceiling; 
"  don't  worry,  dear ;  I  shall  escape  the  ban- 
darlog." 

"  If  something  doesn't  happen,"  observed 
Destyn,  pocketing  his  instrument,  "  the  Green 
Mouse,  Limited,  will  go  into  liquidation  with 
no  liabilities  and  no  assets,  and  there'll  be  no 
billions  for  you  or  for  me  or  for  anybody." 

"  William,"  said  his  wife,  "  do  you  place  a 
low  desire  for  money  before  your  own  sister- 
in-law's  spiritual  happiness  ?  " 

"  No,  darling,  of  course  not." 

"  Then  you  and  I  had  better  pray  for  the 
immediate  bankruptcy  of  the  Green  Mouse." 

Her  husband  said,  "  By  all  means,"  with- 
out enthusiasm,  and  looked  out  of  the  win- 


62  The  Green  Mouse 

dow.  "  Still,"  he  added,  "  I  made  a  happy 
marriage.  I'm  for  wedding  bells  every  time. 
Sacharissa  will  like  it,  too.  I  don't  know  why 
you  and  I  shouldn't  be  enthusiastic  optimists 
concerning  wedded  life;  I  can't  see  why  we 
shouldn't  pray  for  Sacharissa's  early  mar- 
riage." 

"  William ! " 

"  Yes,  darling." 

"  You  are  considering  money  before  my 
sister's  happiness !  " 

"  But  in  her  case  I.  don't  see  why  we  can't 
conscientiously  consider  both." 

Linda  cast  one  tragic  glance  at  her  mate- 
rial husband,  pushed  her  sister  aside,  arose 
and  fled.  After  her  sped  the  contrite  Destyn ; 
a  distant  door  shut  noisily;  all  the  elements 
had  gathered  for  the  happy,  first  quarrel  of 
the  newly  wedded. 

"  Fudge,"  said  Sacharissa,  walking  to  the 
window,  slim  hands  clasped  loosely  behind 
her  back. 


VI 

IN   WRONG 

Wherein  Sacharissa  Remains  In  and  a  Young 
Man  Can't  Get  Out 

THE    snowstorm   had   ceased;   across 
Fifth  Avenue  the  Park  resembled  the 
mica-incrusted  view  on  an  expensive 
Christmas  card.    Every  limb,  branch,  and  twig 
was  outlined  in  clinging  snow;  crystals  of  it 
glittered  under  the  morning  sun;  brilliantly 
dressed    children,    with    sleds,    romped    and 
played  over  the  dazzling  expanse.     Overhead 
the  characteristic  deep  blue  arch  of  a  New 
York  sky  spread  untroubled  by  a  cloud. 

63 


64  The  Green  Mouse 

Her  family — that  is,  her  father,  brother-in- 
law,  married  sister,  three  unmarried  sisters 
and  herself — were  expecting  to  leave  for 
Tuxedo  about  noon.  Why?  Nobody  knows 
why  the  wealthy  are  always  going  somewhere. 
However,  they  do,  fortunately  for  story 
writers. 

"  It's  quite  as  beautiful  here,"  thought 
Sacharissa  to  herself,  "  as  it  is  in  the  country. 
I'm  sorry  I'm  going." 

Idling  there  by  the  sunny  window  and  gaz- 
ing out  into  the  white  expanse,  she  had  al- 
ready dismissed  all  uneasiness  in  her  mind 
concerning  the  psychical  experiment  upon 
herself.  That  is  to  say,  she  had  not  exactly 
dismissed  it,  she  used  no  conscious  effort,  it 
had  gone  of  itself — or,  rather,  it  had  been 
crowded  out,  dominated  by  a  sudden  and 
strong  disinclination  to  go  to  Tuxedo. 

As  she  stood  there  the  feeling  grew  and 
persisted,  and,  presently,  she  found  herself 
repeating  aloud :  "  I  don't  want  to  go,  I  don't 
want  to  go.  It's  stupid  to  go.  Why  should 
I  go  when  it's  stupid  to  go  and  I'd  rather  stay 
here?" 

Meanwhile,  Ethelinda  and  Destyn  were 
having  a  classical  reconciliation  in  a  distant 


In  Wrong  65 


section  of  the  house,  and  the  young  wife  had 
got  as  far  as : 

"  Darling,  I  am  so  worried  about  Rissa.  I 
do  wish  she  were  not  going  to  Tuxedo.  There 
are  so  many  attractive  men  expected  at  the 
Courlands'." 

"  She  can't  escape  men  anywhere,  can 
she?" 

"  N-no ;  but  there  will  be  a  concentration 
of  particularly  good-looking  and  undesirable 
ones  at  Tuxedo  this  week.  That  idle,  horrid, 
cynical  crowd  is  coming  from  Long  Island, 
and  I  don't  want  her  to  marry  any  of  them." 

"  Well,  then,  make  her  stay  at  home." 

"  She  wants  to  go." 

"  What's  the  good  of  an  older  sister  if  you 
can't  make  her  mind  you  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  She  won't.  She's  set  her  heart  on  going. 
All  those  boisterous  winter  sports  appeal  to 
her.  Besides,  how  can  one  member  of  the 
family  be  absent  on  New  Year's  Day  ? " 

Arm  in  arm  they  strolled  out  into  the  great 
living  room,  where  a  large,  pompous,  vividly 
colored  gentleman  was  laying  down  the  law  to 
the  triplets — three  very  attractive  young  girls, 
dressed  precisely  alike,  who  said,  "  Yes,  pa- 
pah! "  and  "  No  pa-pah! "  in  a  grave  and  sil- 


66  The  Green  Mouse 

very-voiced  chorus  whenever  filial  obligation 
required  it. 

"  And  another  thing,"  continued  the  pudgy 
and  vivid  old  gentleman,  whose  voice  usually 
ended  in  a  softly  mellifluous  shout  when 
speaking  emphatically :  "  that  worthless 
Westbury  -  Cedarhurst  -  Jericho  -  Meadow- 
brook  set  are  going  to  be  in  evidence  at 
this  housewarming,  and  I  caution  you  now 
against  paying  anything  but  the  slightest, 
most  superficial  and  most  frivolous  attention 
to  anything  that  any  of  those  young  whip- 
snapping,  fox-hunting  cubs  may  say  to  you. 
Do  you  hear  ?  "  with  a  mellow  shout  like  a 
French  horn  on  a  touring  car. 

"  Yes,  pa-pah! " 

The  old  gentleman  waved  his  single  eye- 
glass in  token  of  dismissal,  and  looked  at  his 
watch. 

"  The  bus  is  here,"  he  said  fussily.  "  Come 
on,  Will;  come,  Linda,  and  you,  Flavilla, 
Drusilla,  and  Sybilla,  get  your  furs  on.  Don't 
take  the  elevator.  Go  down  by  the  stairs, 
and  hurry !  If  there's  one  thing  in  this  world 
I  won't  do  it  is  to  wait  for  anybody  on 
earth!" 

Flunkies  and  maids  flew  distractedly  about 


In  Wrong  67 


with  fur  coats,  muffs,  and  stoles.  In  solemn 
assemblage  the  family  expedition  filed  past 
the  elevator,  descended  the  stairs  to  the  lower 
hall,  and  there  drew  up  for  final  inspection. 

A  mink-infested  footman  waited  outside; 
valets,  butlers,  second-men  and  maids  came 
to  attention. 

"  Where's  Sacharissa  ? "  demanded  Mr. 
Carr,  sonorously. 

"  Here,  dad,"  said  his  oldest  daughter, 
strolling  calmly  into  the  hall,  hands  still 
linked  loosely  behind  her. 

"  Why  haven't  you  got  your  hat  and  furs 
on  ?  "  demanded  her  father. 

"  Because  I'm  not  going,  dad,"  she  said 
sweetly. 

The  family  eyed  her  in  amazement. 

"  Not  going  ? "  shouted  her  father,  in  a 
mellow  bellow.  "  Yes,  you  are !  Not  going! 
And  why  the  dickens  not  ?  " 

"  I  really  don't  know,  dad,"  she  said  list- 
lessly. "  I  don't  want  to  go." 

Her  father  waved  both  pudgy  arms  furi- 
ously. "  Don't  you  feel  well  ?  You  look  well. 
You  are  well.  Don't  you  feel  well?  " 

"  Perfectly." 

"  No,  you  don't !  You're  pale !  You're 
6 


68  The  Green  Mouse 

pallid !  You're  peaked  !  Take  a  tonic  and  lie 
down.  Send  your  maid  for  some  doctors — 
all  kinds  of  doctors — and  have  them  fix  you 
up.  Then  come  to  Tuxedo  with  your  maid 
to-morrow  morning.  Do  you  hear?" 

"  Very  well,  dad." 

"  And  keep  out  of  that  elevator  until  it's 
fixed.  It's  likely  to  do  anything.  Ferdi- 
nand," to  the  man  at  the  door,  "  have  it  fixed 
at  once.  Sacharissa,  send  that  maid  of  yours 
for  a  doctor !  " 

"  Very  well,  dad !  " 

She  presented  her  cheek  to  her  emphatic 
parent;  he  saluted  it  explosively,  wheeled, 
marshaled  the  family  at  a  glance,  started 
them  forward,  and  closed  the  rear  with  his 
own  impressive  person.  The  iron  gates 
clanged,  the  door  of  the  opera  bus  snapped, 
and  Sacharissa  strolled  back  into  the  rococo 
reception  room  not  quite  certain  why  she  had 
not  gone,  not  quite  convinced  that  she  was 
feeling  perfectly  well. 

For  the  first  few  minutes  her  face  had  been 
going  hot  and  cold,  alternately  flushed  and 
pallid.  Her  heart,  too,  was  acting  in  an  unu- 
sual manner — making  sufficient  stir  for  her 
to  become  uneasily  aware  of  it. 


In  Wrong  69 


"  Probably,"  she  thought  to  herself,  "  I've 
eaten  too  many  chocolates."  She  looked  into 
the  large  gilded  box,  took  another  and  ate  it 
reflectively. 

A  curious  languor  possessed  her.  To  com- 
bat it  she  rang  for  her  maid,  intending  to  go 
for  a  brisk  walk,  but  the  weight  of  the  furs 
seemed  to  distress  her.  It  was  absurd.  She 
threw  them  off  and  sat  down  in  the  library. 

A  little  while  later  her  maid  found  her  lying 
there,  feet  crossed,  arms  stretched  backward 
to  form  a  cradle  for  her  head. 

"Are  you  ill,  Miss  Carr?" 

"  No,"  said  Sacharissa. 

The  maid  cast  an  alarmed  glance  at  her 
mistress'  pallid  face. 

"  Would  you  see  Dr.  Blimmer,  miss  ?  " 

"  No." 

The  maid  hesitated : 

"  Beg  pardon,  but  Mr.  Carr  said  you  was 
to  see  some  doctors." 

"  Very  well,"  she  said  indifferently.  "  And 
please  hand  me  those  chocolates.  I  don't 
care  for  any  luncheon." 

"  No  luncheon,  miss  ?  "  in  consternation. 

Sacharissa  had  never  been  known  to  shun 
sustenance. 


7o  The  Green  Mouse 

The  symptom  thoroughly  frightened  her 
maid,  and  in  a  few  minutes  she  had  Dr.  Blim- 
mer's  office  on  the  telephone ;  but  that  emi- 
nent practitioner  was  out.  Then  she  found 
in  succession  the  offices  of  Doctors  White, 
Black,  and  Gray.  Two  had  gone  away  over 
New  Year's,  the  other  was  out. 

The  maid,  who  was  clever  and  resourceful, 
went  out  to  hunt  up  a  doctor.  There  are,  in 
the  cross  streets,  plenty  of  doctors  between 
the  Seventies  and  Eighties.  She  found  one 
without  difficulty — that  is,  she  found  the  sign 
in  the  window,  but  the  doctor  was  out  on  his 
visits. 

She  made  two  more  attempts  with  similar 
results,  then,  discovering  a  doctor's  sign  in 
a  window  across  the  street,  started  for  it  re- 
gardless of  snowdrifts,  and  at  the  same  mo- 
ment the  doctor's  front  door  opened  and  a 
young  man,  with  a  black  leather  case  in  his 
hand,  hastily  descended  the  icy  steps  and  hur- 
ried away  up  the  street. 

The  maid  ran  after  him  and  arrived  at  his 
side  breathless,  excited: 

"  Oh,  could  you  come — just  for  a  moment, 
if  you  please,  sir!  Miss  Carr  won't  eat  her 
luncheon ! " 


In  Wrong  71 


"  What !  "  said  the  young  man,  surprised. 

"  Miss   Carr  wishes   to   see   you — just  for 

tt 

"Miss  Carr?" 
"  Miss  Sacharissa !  " 
"Sacharissa?" 
"  Y-yes,  sir — she- 


"  But  I  don't  know  any  Miss  Sacharissa !  " 

"  I  understand  that,  sir." 

"  Look  here,  young  woman,  do  you  know 
my  name  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  but  that  doesn't  make  any  dif- 
ference to  Miss  Carr." 

"  She  wishes  to  see  me!" 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir." 

"  I — I'm  in  a  hurry  to  catch  a  train."  He 
looked  hard  at  the  maid,  at  his  watch,  at  the 
maid  again. 

"  Are  you  perfectly  sure  you're  not  mistak- 
en ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  No,  sir,  I " 

"  A  certain  Miss  Sacharissa  Carr  desires  to 
see  me?  Are  you  certain  of  that?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir— she " 

"  Where  does  she  live  ?  " 

"  One  thousand  eight  and  a  half  Fifth  Av- 
enue, sir." 


72  The  Green  Mouse 

11  I've  got  just  three  minutes.  Can  you 
run?" 

"  I— yes !  " 

"  Come  on,  then  !  " 

And  away  they  galloped,  his  overcoat 
streaming  out  behind,  the  maid's  skirts  flap- 
ping and  her  narrow  apron  flickering  in  the 
wind.  Wayfarers  stopped  to  watch  their  pace 
— a  pace  which  brought  them  to  the  house  in 
something  under  a  minute.  Ferdinand,  the 
second  man,  let  them  in. 

"  Now,  then,"  panted  the  young  man, 
"  which  way  ?  I'm  in  a  hurry,  remem- 
ber ! "  And  he  started  on  a  run  for  the 
stairs. 

"  Please  follow  me,  sir ;  the  elevator  is 
quicker ! "  gasped  the  maid,  opening  the 
barred  doors. 

The  young  man  sprang  into  the  lighted  car, 
the  maid  turned  to  fling  off  hat  and  jacket 
before  entering;  something  went  fizz-bang! 
snap !  clink !  and  the  lights  in  the  car  were  ex- 
tinguished. 

"  Oh !  "  shrieked  the  maid,  "  it's  running 
away  again !  Jump,  sir !  " 

The  ornate,  rococo  elevator,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  was  running  away,  upward,  slowly  at 


In  Wrong  73 


first.  Its  astonished  occupant  turned  to  jump 
out — too  late. 

"P-push  the  third  button,  sir!  Quick!" 
cried  the  maid,  wringing  her  hands. 

"  W-where  is  it !  "  stammered  the  young 
man,  groping  nervously  in  the  dark  car.  "  I 
can't  see  any." 

"  Cr-rack  !  "  went  something. 

"It's  stopped!  It's  going  to  fall!" 
screamed  the  maid.  "  Run,  Ferdinand !  " 

The  man  at  the  door  ran  upstairs  for  a 
few  steps,  then  distractedly  slid  to  the  bottom, 
shouting : 

"  Are  you  hurt,  sir  ?  " 

"  No,"  came  a  disgusted  voice  from  some- 
where up  the  shaft. 

Every  landing  was  now  noisy  with  servants, 
maids  sped  upstairs,  flunkeys  sped  down,  a 
butler  waddled  in  a  circle. 

"  Is  anybody  going  to  get  me  out  of  this  ?  " 
demanded  the  voice  in  the  shaft.  "  I've  a 
train  to  catch." 

The  perspiring  butler  poked  his  head  into 
the  shaft  from  below: 

"  'Ow  far  hup,  sir,  might  you  be  ?  " 

"How  the  devil  do  I  know?" 

"Can't  you  see  nothink,  sir?" 


74  The  Green  Mouse 

"  Yes,  I  can  see  a  landing  and  a  red 
room." 

"  'E's  stuck  hunder  the  library !  "  exclaimed 
the  butler,  and  there  was  a  rush  for  the  upper 
floors. 

The  rush  was  met  and  checked  by  a  tall, 
young  girl  who  came  leisurely  along  the  land- 
ing, nibbling  a  chocolate. 

"  What  is  all  this  noise  about  ?  "  she  asked. 
"  Has  the  elevator  gone  wrong  again  ?  " 

Glancing  across  the  landing  at  the  grille 
which  screened  the  shaft  she  saw  the  gilded 
car  —  part  of  it  —  and  half  of  a  perfectly 
strange  young  man  looking  earnestly  out. 

"  It's  the  doctor !  "  wailed  her  maid. 

"  That  isn't  Dr.  Blimmer !  "  said  her  mis- 
tress. 

"  No,  miss,  it's  a  perfectly  strange  doc- 
tor." 

"  I  am  not  a  doctor,"  observed  the  young 
man,  coldly. 

Sacharissa  drew  nearer. 

"  If  that  maid  of  yours  had  asked  me,"  he 
went  on,  "  I'd  have  told  her.  She  saw  me 
coming  down  the  steps  of  a  physician's  house 
— I  suppose  she  mistook  my  camera  case  for 
a  case  of  medicines." 


In  Wrong  75 


"  I  did — oh,  I  did !  "  moaned  the  maid,  and 
covered  her  head  with  her  apron. 

"  The  thing  to  do,"  said  Sacharissa,  calmly, 
"  is  to  send  for  the  nearest  plumber.  Fer- 
dinand, go  immediately !  " 

"  Meanwhile,"  said  the  imprisoned  young 
man,  "  I  shall  miss  my  train.  Can't  some- 
body break  that  grille?  I  could  climb  out 
that  way." 

"  Sparks,"  said  Miss  Carr,  "  can  you  break 
that  grille?" 

Sparks  tried.  A  kitchen  maid  brought  a 
small  tackhammer — the  only  "  'ammer  in  the 
'ouse,"  according  to  Sparks,  who  pounded  at 
the  foliated  steel  grille  and  broke  the  hammer 
off  short. 

"  Did  it  'it  you  in  the  'ead,  sir  ?  "  he  asked, 
panting. 

"  Exactly,"  replied  the  young  man,  grind- 
ing his  teeth. 

Sparks  'oped  as  'ow  it  didn't  'urt  the  gen- 
tleman. The  gentleman  stanched  his  wound 
in  terrible  silence. 

Presently  Ferdinand  came  back  to  report 
upon  the  availability  of  the  family  plumber. 
It  appeared  that  all  plumbers,  locksmiths,  and 
similar  indispensable  and  free-born  artisans 


76  The  Green  Mouse 

had  closed  shop  at  noon  and  would  not  re- 
open until  after  New  Year's,  subject  to  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States. 

"  But  this  gentleman  cannot  remain  here 
until  after  New  Year's,"  said  Sacharissa. 
"  He  says  he  is  in  a  hurry.  Do  you  hear, 
Sparks  ?  " 

The  servants  stood  in  a  helpless  row. 

"  Ferdinand,"  she  said,  "  Mr.  Carr  told  you 
to  have  that  elevator  fixed  before  it  was  used 
again ! " 

Ferdinand  stared  wildly  at  the  grille  and 
ran  his  thumb  over  the  bars. 

"  And  Clark  "—to  her  maid—"  I  am  aston- 
ished that  you  permitted  this  gentleman  to 
risk  the  elevator." 

"  He  was  in  a  hurry — I  thought  he  was  a 
doctor."  The  maid  dissolved  into  tears. 

"  It  is  now,"  broke  in  the  voice  from  the 
shaft,  "  an  utter  impossibility  for  me  to  catch 
any  train  in  the  United  States." 

"  I  am  dreadfully  sorry,"  said  Sacharissa. 

"  Isn't  there  an  ax  in  the  house  ?  " 

The  butler  mournfully  denied  it. 

"  Then  get  the  furnace  bar." 

It  was  fetched ;  nerve-racking  blows  rained 
on  the  grille ;  puffing  servants  applied  it  as  a 


In  Wrong  77 


lever,  as  a  battering-ram,  as  a  club.  The 
house  rang  like  a  boiler  factory. 

"  I  can't  stand  any  more  of  that !  "  shouted 
the  young  man.  "  Stop  it !  " 

Sacharissa  looked  about  her,  hands  closing 
both  ears. 

"  Send  them  away,"  said  the  young  man, 
wearily.  "  If  I've  got  to  stay  here  I  want 
a  chance  to  think." 

After  she  had  dismissed  the  servants 
Sacharissa  drew  up  a  chair  and  seated  herself 
a  few  feet  from  the  grille.  She  could  see 
half  the  car  and  half  the  man — plainer,  now 
that  she  had  come  nearer. 

He  was  a  young  and  rather  attractive  look- 
ing fellow,  cheek  tied  up  in  his  handkerchief, 
where  the  head  of  the  hammer  had  knocked 
off  the  skin. 

"  Let  me  get  some  witch-hazel,"  said  Sa- 
charissa, rising. 

"  I  want  to  write  a  telegram  first,"  he  said. 

So  she  brought  some  blanks,  passed  them 
and  a  pencil  down  to  him  through  the  grille, 
and  reseated  herself. 


VII 

THE   INVISIBLE   WIRE 

In  Which  the  Telephone  Continues  Ringing 

WHEN  he  had  finished  writing  he 
sorted  out  some  silver,  and  hand- 
ed  it    and    the    yellow    paper    to 
Sacharissa. 

"  It's  dark  in  here.  Would  you  mind  read- 
ing it  aloud  to  me  to  see  if  I've  made  it 
plain  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Certainly/'  said  Sacharissa ;  and  she  read : 

MRS.  DELANCY  COURLAND, 

Tuxedo. 

I'm  stuck  in  an  idiotic  elevator  at   ioo8J 
Fifth  Avenue.     If   I   don't   appear  by   New 
78 


The  Invisible  Wire  79 

Year's  you'll  know  why.     Be  careful  that  no 
reporters  get  hold  of  this. 

KILLIAN  VAN  K.  VANDERDYNK. 

Sacharissa  flushed  deeply.  "  I  can't  send 
this,"  she  said. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  demanded  the  young  man, 
irritably. 

"  Because,  Mr.  Vanderdynk,  my  father, 
brother-in-law,  married  sister,  and  three 
younger  sisters  are  expected  at  the  Cour- 
lands'.  Imagine  what  effect  such  a  telegram 
would  have  on  them  !  " 

"  Then  cross  out  the  street  and  number,"  he 
said ;  "  just  say  I'm  stuck  in  a  strange  eleva- 
tor." 

She  did  so,  rang,  and  a  servant  took  away 
the  telegram. 

"  Now,"  said  the  heir  apparent  to  the 
Prince  Regency  of  Manhattan,  "  there  are 
two  things  still  possible.  First,  you  might 
ring  up  police  headquarters  and  ask  for  aid; 
next,  request  assistance  from  fire  head- 
quarters." 

"  If  I  do,"  she  said,  "  wouldn't  the  news- 
papers get  hold  of  it  ?  " 

"  You  are  perfectly  right,"  he  said. 


8o  The  Green  Mouse 

She  had  now  drawn  her  chair  so  close  to 
the  gilded  grille  that,  hands  resting  upon  it, 
she  could  look  down  into  the  car  where  sat 
the  scion  of  the  Vanderdynks  on  a  flimsy 
Louis  XV  chair. 

"  I  can't  express  to  you  how  sorry  I  am," 
she  said.  "  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  to — 
to  ameliorate  your  imprisonment?" 

He  looked  at  her  in  a  bewildered  way. 

"  You  don't  expect  me  to  remain  here  until 
after  New  Year's,  do  you  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  can  avoid  it.  No- 
body seems  to  want  to  work  until  after  New 
Year's." 

"  Stay  in  a  cage — two  days  and  a  night !  " 

"  Perhaps  I  had  better  call  up  the  police." 

"  No,  no !  Wait.  I'll  tell  you  what  to  do. 
Start  that  man,  Ferdinand,  on  a  tour  of  the 
city.  If  he  hunts  hard  enough  and  long 
enough  he'll  find  some  plumber  or  locksmith 
or  somebody  who'll  come." 

She  rang  for  Ferdinand ;  together  they  in- 
structed him,  and  he  went  away,  promising 
to  bring  salvation  in  some  shape. 

Which  promise  made  the  young  man  more 
cheerful  and  smoothed  out  the  worried  puck- 
er between  Sacharissa's  straight  brows. 


The  Invisible  Wire  81 

"  I  suppose,"  she  said,  "  that  you  will  never 
forgive  my  maid  for  this — or  me  either." 

He  laughed.  "After  all,"  he  admitted, 
"  it's  rather  funny." 

"  I  don't  believe  you  think  it's  funny." 

"  Yes,  I  dp." 

"  Didn't  you  want  to  go  to  Tuxedo  ?  " 

"  I !  "  He  looked  up  at  the  pretty  counte- 
nance of  Sacharissa.  "  I  did  want  to — a  few 
minutes  ago." 

"  And  now  that  you  can't  your  philosophy 
teaches  you  that  you  don't  want  to  ?  " 

They  laughed  at  each  other  in  friendly 
fashion. 

"  Perhaps  it's  my  philosophy,"  he  said, 
"  but  I  really  don't  care  very  much.  .  .  .  I'm 
not  sure  that  I  care  at  all.  ...  In  fact,  now 
that  I  think  of  it,  why  should  I  have  wished 
to  go  to  Tuxedo?  It's  stupid  to  want  to  go 
to  Tuxedo  when  New  York  is  so  attractive." 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said  reflectively, 
"  that  I  came  to  the  same  conclusion  ?  " 

"When?" 

"This  morning." 

"  Be-before  you— I " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  said  rather  hastily,  "  be- 
fore you  came " 


82  The  Green  Mouse 

She  broke  off,  pink  with  consternation. 
What  a  ridiculous  thing  to  say!  What  on 
earth  was  twisting  her  tongue  to  hint  at  such 
an  absurdity? 

She  said,  gravely,  with  heightened  color: 
"  I  was  standing  by  the  window  this  morning, 
thinking,  and  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  didn't 
care  to  go  to  Tuxedo.  .  .  .  When  did  you 
change  your  mind  ?  " 

"  A  few  minutes  a — that  is — well,  I  never 
really  wanted  to  go.  It's  jollier  in  town. 
Don't  you  think  so?  Blue  sky,  snow — er — 
and  all  that?" 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  it  is  perfectly  delightful 
in  town  to-day. " 

He  assented,  then  looked  discouraged. 

"  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  go  out  ?  "  he 
said. 

"  I  ?  Oh,  no.  ...  The  sun  on  the  snow 
is  bad  for  one's  eyes;  don't  you  think 
so?" 

"  Very.  .  .  .  I'm  terribly  sorry  that  I'm 
giving  you  so  much  trouble." 

"  I  don't  mind — really.  If  only  I  could  do 
something  for  you." 

"  You  are." 

"  I  ?  " 


The  Invisible  Wire  83 

"  Yes ;  you  are  being  exceedingly  nice  to 
me.  I  am  afraid  you  feel  under  obligations 
to  remain  indoors  and " 

"  Truly,  I  don't.     I  was  not  going  out." 

She  leaned  nearer  and  looked  through  the 
bars :  "  Are  you  quite  sure  you  feel  comfort- 
able?" 

"  I  feel  like  something  in  a  zoo !  " 

She  laughed.  "  That  reminds  me,"  she 
said,  "  have  you  had  any  luncheon  ?  " 

He  had  not,  it  appeared,  after  a  little  polite 
protestation,  so  she  rang  for  Sparks. 

Her  own  appetite,  too,  had  returned  when 
the  tray  was  brought;  napkin  and  plate  were 
passed  through  the  grille  to  him,  and,  as 
they  lunched,  he  in  his  cage,  she  close  to  the 
bars,  they  fell  into  conversation,  exchanging 
information  concerning  mutual  acquaintances 
whom  they  had  expected  to  meet  at  the  De- 
lancy  Courlands'. 

"  So  you  see,"  she  said,  "  that  if  I  had  not 
changed  my  mind  about  going  to  Tuxedo  this 
morning  you  would  not  be  here  now.  Nor 
I.  ...  And  we  would  never  have — lunched 
together." 

"  That  didn't  alter  things,"  he  said,  smil- 
ing. "  If  you  hadn't  been  ill  you  would  have 
7 


84  The  Green  Mouse 

gone  to  Tuxedo,  and  I  should  have  seen  you 
there." 

"  Then,  whatever  I  did  made  no  difference," 
she  assented,  thoughtfully,  "  for  we  were 
bound  to  meet,  anyway." 

He  remained  standing  close  to  the  grille, 
which,  as  she  was  seated,  brought  his  head  on 
a  level  with  hers. 

"  It  would  seem,"  he  said  laughingly,  "  as 
though  we  were  doomed  to  meet  each  other, 
anyway.  It  looks  like  a  case  of  Destiny 
to  me." 

She  started  slightly :  "  What  did  you  say?  " 

"  I  said  that  it  looks  as  though  Fate  in- 
tended us  to  meet,  anyhow.  Don't  you 
think  so?" 

She  remained  silent. 

He  added  cheerfully :  "  I  never  was  afraid 
of  Fate." 

"  Would  you  care  for  a — a  book — or  any- 
thing? "  she  asked,  aware  of  a  new  constraint 
in  her  voice. 

"  I  don't  believe  I  could  see  to  read  in  here. 
.  .  .  Are  you — going  ?  " 

"  I— ought  to."  Vexed  at  the  feeble  sense- 
lessness of  her  reply  she  found  herself  walk- 
ing down  the  landing,  toward  nowhere  in 


The  Invisible  Wire  85 

particular.  She  turned  abruptly  and  came 
back. 

"  Do  you  want  a  book  ? "  she  repeated. 
"  Oh,  I  forgot  that  you  can't  see  to  read.  But 
perhaps  you  might  care  to  smoke." 

"  Are  you  going  away  ?  " 

"  I — don't  mind  your  smoking." 

He  lighted  a  cigarette;  she  looked  at  him 
irresolutely. 

"  You  mustn't  think  of  remaining,"  he  said. 
Whereupon  she  seated  herself. 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  try  to  amuse  you — 
till  Ferdinand  returns  with  a  plumber,"  she 
said. 

He  protested :  "  I  couldn't  think  of  asking 
so  much  from  you." 

"  Anyway,  it's  my  duty,"  she  insisted.  "  I 
ought." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  you  are  under  my  roof — 
a  guest." 

"  Please  don't  think " 

"  But  I  really  don't  mind !  If  there  is  any- 
thing I  can  do  to  make  your  imprisonment 
easier " 

"  It  is  easy.     I  rather  like  being  here." 

"  It  is  very  amiable  of  you  to  say  so." 


86  The  Green  Mouse 

"  I  really  mean  it." 

"  How  can  you  really  mean  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  but  I  do." 

In  their  earnestness  they  had  come  close 
to  the  bars ;  she  stood  with  both  hands  resting 
on  the  grille,  looking  in ;  he  in  a  similar  po- 
sition, looking  out. 

He  •  said :  "  I  feel  like  an  occupant  of  the 
Bronx,  and  it  rather  astonishes  me  that  you 
haven't  thrown  me  in  a  few  peanuts." 

She  laughed,  fetched  her  box  of  chocolates, 
then  began  seriously :  "  If  Ferdinand  doesn't 
find  anybody  I'm  afraid  you  might  be  obliged 
to  remain  to  dinner." 

"  That  prospect,"  he  said,  "  is  not  unpleas- 
ant. You  know  when  one  becomes  accus- 
tomed to  one's  cage  it's  rather  a  bore  to  be 
let  out." 

They  sampled  the  chocolates,  she  sitting 
close  to  the  cage,  and  as  the  box  would  not 
go  through  the  bars  she  was  obliged  to  hand 
them  to  him,  one  by  one. 

"  I  wonder,"  she  mused,  "  how  soon  Fer- 
dinand will  find  a  plumber?  " 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

She  bent  her  adorable  head,  chose  a  choco- 
late and  offered  it  to  him. 


"'Are  you  not  terribly  impatient?'  she  inquired. 


The  Invisible  Wire  87 

"  Are  you  not  terribly  impatient  ?  "  she  in- 
quired. 

"  Not — terribly." 

Their  glances  encountered  and  she  said 
hurriedly : 

"  I  am  sure  you  must  be  perfectly  furious 
with  everybody  in  this  house.  I — I  think 
it  is  most  amiable  of  you  to  behave  so  cheer- 
fully about  it." 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,"  he  said,  "  I'm  feel- 
ing about  as  cheerful  as  I  ever  felt  in  my  life." 

"  Cooped  up  in  a  cage  ?  " 

"  Exactly." 

"  Which  may  fall  at  any — "  The  idea  was 
a  new  one  to  them  both.  She  leaned  forward 
in  sudden  consternation.  "  I  never  thought 
of  that !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  You  don't  think 
there's  any  chance  of  its  falling,  do  you?" 

He  looked  at  the  startled,  gray  eyes  so 
earnestly  fixed  on  his.  The  sweet  mouth 
quivered  a  little — just  a  little — or  he  thought 
it  did. 

"  No,"  he  replied,  with  a  slight  catch  in  his 
voice,  "  I  don't  believe  it's  going  to  fall." 

"  Perhaps  you  had  better  not  move  around 
very  much  in  it.  Be  careful,  I  beg  of  you. 
You  will,  won't  you,  Mr.  Vanderdynk  ?  " 


88  The  Green  Mouse 

"  Please  don't  let  it  bother  you,"  he  said, 
stepping  toward  her  impulsively. 

"  Oh,  don't,  don't  move !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  You  really  must  keep  perfectly  still.  Won't 
you  promise  me  you  will  keep  perfectly 
still?" 

"  I'll  promise  you  anything,"  he  said  a 
little  wildly. 

Neither  seemed  to  notice  that  he  had  over- 
done it. 

She  drew  her  chair  as  close  as  it  would  go 
to  the  grille  and  leaned  against  it. 

"^You  will  keep  up  your  courage,  won't 
you  ?  "  she  asked  anxiously. 

"  Certainly.  By  the  way,  how  far  is  it  to 
the  b-basement  ?  " 

She  turned  quite  white  for  an  instant, 
then: 

"  I  think  I'd  better  go  and  ring  up  the 
police/' 

"  No !  A  thousand  times  no !  I  couldn't 
stand  that." 

"  But  the  car  might — drop  before " 

"  Better  decently  dead  than  publicly  para- 
graphed. ...  I  haven't  the  least  idea  that 
this  thing  is  going  to  drop.  .  .  .  Anyway, 
it's  worth  it,"  he  added,  rather  vaguely. 


The  Invisible  Wire  89 

"  Worth — what  ?  "  she  asked,  looking  into 
his  rather  winning,  brown  eyes. 

"  Being  here,"  he  said,  looking  into  her 
engaging  gray  ones. 

After  a  startling  silence  she  said  calmly: 
"  Will  you  promise  me  not  to  move  or  shake 
the  car  till  I  return  ?  " 

"  You  won't  be  very  long,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Not — very,"  she  replied  faintly. 

She  walked  into  the  library,  halted  in  the 
center  of  the  room,  hands  clasped  behind 
her.  Her  heart  was  beating  like  a  trip 
hammer. 

"  I  might  as  well  face  it,"  she  said  to  her- 
self ;  "  he  is — by  far — the  most  thoroughly 
attractive  man  I  have  ever  seen.  .  .  .  I — I 
don't  know  what's  the  matter/'  she  added 
piteously.  .  .  .  "  if  it's  that  machine  William 
made  I  can't  help  it ;  I  don't  care  any  longer ; 
I  wish " 

A  sharp  crack  from  the  landing  sent  her 
out  there  in  a  hurry,  pale  and  frightened. 

"  Something  snapped  somewhere,"  ex- 
plained the  young  man  with  forced  careless- 
ness, "  some  unimportant  splinter  gave  way 
and  the  thing  slid  down  an  inch  or  two." 

"  D-do  you  think " 


90  The  Green  Mouse 

"  No,  I  don't.  But  it's  perfectly  fine  of  you 
to  care." 

"  C-care  ?  I'm  a  little  frightened,  of  course. 
.  .  .  Anybody  would  be.  ...  Oh,  I  wish  you 
were  out  and  p-perfectly  safe." 

"  If  I  thought  you  could  ever  really  care 
what  became  of  a  man  like  me " 

Killian  Van  K.  Vanderdynk's  aristocratic 
senses  began  gyrating;  he  grasped  the  bars, 
the  back  of  his  hand  brushed  against  hers, 
and  the  momentary  contact  sent  a  shock 
straight  through  the  scion  of  that  celebrated 
race. 

She  seated  herself  abruptly;  a  delicate 
color  grew,  staining  her  face. 

Neither  spoke.  A  long,  luminous  sunbeam 
fell  across  the  landing,  touching  the  edge  of 
her  hair  till  it  glimmered  like  bronze  afire. 
The  sensitive  mouth  was  quiet,  the  eyes,  very 
serious,  were  lifted  from  time  to  time,  then 
lowered,  thoughtfully,  to  the  clasped  fingers 
on  her  knee. 

Could  it  be  possible?  How  could  it  be 
possible? — with  a  man  she  had  never  before 
chanced  to  meet — with  a  man  she  had  seen 
for  the  first  time  in  her  life  only  an  hour  or 
so  ago !  Such  things  didn't  happen  outside 


The  Invisible  Wire  91 

of  short  stories.  There  was  neither  logic  nor 
common  decency  in  it.  Had  she  or  had  she 
not  any  ordinary  sense  remaining? 

She  raised  her  eyes  and  looked  at  the  heir 
of  the  Vanderdynks. 

Of  course  anybody  could  see  he  was  un- 
usually attractive — that  he  had  that  indefin- 
able something  about  him  which  is  seldom, 
if  ever,  seen  outside  of  fiction  or  of  Mr.  Gib- 
son's drawings — perhaps  it  is  entirely  con- 
fined to  them — except  in  this  one  very  rare 
case. 

Sacharissa's  eyes  fell. 

Another  unusual  circumstance  was  engag- 
ing her  attention,  namely,  that  his  rather  re- 
markable physical  perfection  appeared  to  be 
matched  by  a  breeding  quite  as  faultless,  and 
a  sublimity  of  courage  in  the  f-face  of  d-de- 
struction  itself,  which 

Sacharissa  lifted  her  gray  eyes. 

There  he  stood,  suspended  over  an  abyss, 
smoking  a  cigarette,  bravely  forcing  himself 
to  an  attitude  of  serene  insouciance,  while  the 
basement  yawned  for  him !  Machine  or  no 
machine,  how  could  any  girl  look  upon  such 
miraculous  self-control  unmoved?  She  could 
not.  It  was  natural  that  a  woman  should  be 


92  The  Green  Mouse 

deeply  thrilled  by  such  a  spectacle — and  Wil- 
liam Destyn's  machine  had  nothing  to  do  with 
it — not  a  thing!  Neither  had  psychology,  nor 
demonology,  nor  anything,  with  wires  or  wire- 
less. She  liked  him,  frankly.  Who  wouldn't  ? 
She  feared  for  him,  desperately.  Who 
wouldn't  ?  She 

"C-r-rack!" 

"  Oh — what  is  it !  "  she  cried,  springing  to 
the  grille. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  said,  somewhat  pale. 
"  The  old  thing  seems — to  be  sliding." 

"  Giving  way !  " 

"A— little— I  think " 

"  Mr.  Vanderdynk !  I  must  call  the  po- 
lice  " 

"  Cr-rackle  —  crack-k-k !  "  went  the  car, 
dropping  an  inch  or  two. 

With  a  stifled  cry  she  caught  his  hands 
through  the  bars,  as  though  to  hold  him  by 
main  strength. 

"Are  you  crazy?"  he  said  fiercely,  thrust- 
ing them  away.  "  Be  careful !  If  the  thing 
drops  you'll  break  your  arms !  " 

"  I — I  don't  care !  "  she  said  breathlessly. 
"  I  can't  let " 

"  Crack !  "    But  the  car  stuck  again. 


The  Invisible  Wire  93 

"  I  will  call  the  police !  "  she  cried. 

"  The  papers  may  make  fun  of  you." 

"  Was  it  for  me  you  were  afraid  ?  Oh,  Mr. 
Vanderdynk !  W-what  do  I  care  for  ridicule 
compared  to — to " 

The  car  had  sunk  so  far  in  the  shaft  now 
that  she  had  to  kneel  and  put  her  head  close 
to  the  floor  to  see  him. 

"  I  will  only  be  a  minute  at  the  telephone," 
she  said.  "  Keep  up  courage ;  I  am  thinking 
of  you  every  moment." 

"  W-will  you  let  me  say  one  word  ?  "  he 
stammered. 

"  Oh,  what  ?    Be  quick,  I  beg  you." 

"  It's  only  good-by — in  case  the  thing 
drops.  May  I  say  it?  " 

"  Y-yes — yes  !    But  say  it  quickly." 

"  And  if  it  doesn't  drop  after  all,  you  won't 
be  angry  at  what  I'm  going  to  say?  " 

"  N-no.    Oh,  for  Heaven's  sake,  hurry !  " 

"  Then — you  are  the  sweetest  woman  in  the 
world!  .  .  .  Good-by — Sacharissa — dear." 

She  sprang  up,  dazed,  and  at  the  same  mo- 
ment a  terrific  crackling  and  splintering  re- 
sounded from  the  shaft,  and  the  car  sank  out 
of  sight. 

Faint,  she  swayed  for  a  second  against  the 


94  The  Green  Mouse 

balustrade,  then  turned  and  ran  downstairs, 
ears  strained  for  the  sickening  crash  from 
below. 

There  was  no  crash,  no  thud.  As  she 
reached  the  drawing-room  landing,  to  her 
amazement  a  normally-lighted  elevator  slid 
slowly  down,  came  to  a  stop,  and  the  auto- 
matic grilles  opened  quietly. 

As  Killian  Van  K.  Vanderdynk  crept  forth 
from  the  elevator,  Sacharissa's  nerves  gave 
way ;  his,  also,  seemed  to  disintegrate ;  and 
they  stood  for  some  moments  mutually  sup- 
porting each  other,  during  which  interval  un- 
accustomed tears  fell  from  the  gray  eyes,  and 
unaccustomed  words,  breathed  brokenly,  re- 
assured her ;  and,  altogether  unaccustomed  to 
such  things,  they  presently  found  themselves 
seated  in  a  distant  corner  of  the  drawing- 
room,  still  endeavoring  to  reassure  each  other 
with  interclasped  hands. 

They  said  nothing  so  persistently  that  the 
wordless  minutes  throbbed  into  hours ; 
through  the  windows  the  red  west  sent  a 
glowing  tentacle  into  the  room,  searching  the 
gloom  for  them. 

It  fell,  warm,  across  her  upturned  throat, 
in  the  half  light. 


The  Invisible  Wire  95 

For  her  head  lay  back  on  his  shoulder ;  his 
head  was  bent  down,  lips  pressed  to  the  white 
hands  crushed  fragrantly  between  his  own. 


A  star  came  out  and  looked  at  them  with 
astonishment;  in  a  little  while  the  sky  was 
thronged  with  little  stars,  all  looking  through 
the  window  at  them. 

Her  maid  knocked,  backed  out  hastily  and 
fled,  distracted.  Then  Ferdinand  arrived 
with  a  plumber. 

Later  the  butler  came.  They  did  not  no- 
tice him  until  he  ventured  to  cough  and  an- 
nounce dinner. 

The  interruptions  were  very  annoying,  par- 
ticularly when  she  was  summoned  to  the  tele- 
phone to  speak  to  her  father. 

"  What  is  it,  dad  ?  "  she  asked  impatiently. 

"Are  you  all  right?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  answered,  carelessly ;  "  we 
are  all  right,  dad.  Good-by." 

"  We?    Who  the  devil  is  '  We  '  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Vanderdynk  and  I.  We're  taking 
my  maid  and  coming  down  to  Tuxedo  this 
evening  together.  I'm  in  a  hurry  now." 

"What!  !  !  !" 


96  The  Green  Mouse 

"Oh,  it's  all  right,  dad.  Here,  Killian, 
please  explain  things  to  my  father." 

Vanderdynk  released  her  hand  and  picked 
up  the  receiver  as  though  it  had  been  a  live 
wire. 

"Is  that  you,  Mr.  Carr?"  he  began — 
stopped  short,  and  stood  listening,  rigid,  be- 
wildered, turning  redder  and  redder  as  her 
father's  fluency  increased.  Then,  without  a 
word,  he  hooked  up  the  receiver. 

"  Is  it  all  right  ?  "  she  asked  calmly.  "  Was 
dad — vivacious  ?  " 

The  young  man  said :  "I'd  rather  go  back 
into  that  elevator  than  go  to  Tuxedo.  .  .  . 
But — I'm  going." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Bushwyck  Carr's  daughter, 
dropping  both  hands  on  her  lover's  shoul- 
ders. ..."  Was  he  really  very — vivid  ?  "  . 

"  Very." 

The  telephone  again  rang  furiously. 

He  bent  his  head;  she  lifted  her  face  and  he 
kissed  her. 

After  a  while  the  racket  of  the  telephone 
annoyed  them,  and  they  slowly  moved  away 
out  of  hearing. 


VIII 


The  Green  Mouse  Stirs 

I'VE  been  waiting  half  an  hour  for  you/' 
observed    Smith,    dryly,    as     Beekman 
Brown  appeared  at  the  subway  station, 
suitcase  in  hand. 

"  It  was  a  most  extraordinary  thing  that 
detained  me,"  said  Brown,  laughing,  and  edg- 
ing his  way  into  the  ticket  line  behind  his 
friend  where  he  could  talk  to  him  across  his 
shoulder ;  "  I  was  just  leaving  the  office, 
Smithy,  when  Snuyder  came  in  with  a  card." 

"  Oh,  all  right— of  course,  if " 

"  No,  it  was  not  a  client ;  I  must  be  honest 
with  you." 

97 


98  The  Green  Mouse 

''  Then  you  had  a  terrible  cheek  to  keep  me 
here  waiting." 

"  It  was  a  girl,"  said  Beekman  Brown. 

Smith  cast  a  cold  glance  back  at  him  over 
his  left  shoulder. 

"  What  kind  of  a  girl  ?  " 

"  A  most  extraordinary  girl.  She  came  on 
— on  a  matter " 

"  Was  it  business  or  a  touch  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly  business." 

"  Ornamental  girl  ?  "  demanded  Smith. 

"  Yes — exceedingly ;  but  it  wasn't  that " 

"  Oh,  it  was  not  that  which  kept  you  talk- 
ing to  her  half  an  hour  while  I've  sat  suffo- 
cating in  this  accursed  subway !  " 

"  No,  Smith ;  her  undeniably  attractive  fea- 
tures and  her — ah — winning  personality  had 
nothing  whatever  to  do  with  it.  Buy  the 
tickets  and  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it." 

Smith  bought  two  tickets.  A  north  bound 
train  roared  into  the  station.  The  young  men 
stepped  aboard,  seated  themselves,  depositing 
their  suitcases  at  their  feet. 

"  Now  what  about  that  winning-looker  who 
really  didn't  interest  you  ?  "  suggested  Smith 
in  tones  made  slightly  acid  by  memory  of 
his  half  hour  waiting. 


Cf  In  Heaven  and  Earth  "        99 

"  Smith,  it  was  a  most  unusual  episode.  I 
was  just  leaving  the  office  to  keep  my  ap- 
pointment with  you  when  Snuyder  came  in 
with  a  card " 

"  You've  said  that  already." 

"  But  I  didn't  tell  you  what  was  on  that 
card,  did  I?" 

"  I  can  guess." 

"  No,  you  can't.  Her  name  was  not  on 
the  card.  She  was  not  an  agent;  she  had 
nothing  to  sell;  she  didn't  want  a  posi- 
tion ;  she  didn't  ask  for  a  subscription  to  any- 
thing. And  what  do  you  suppose  was  on  that 
card?" 

"  Well,  what  was  on  the  card,  for  the  love 
of  Mike  ?  "  snapped  Smith. 

"  I'll  tell  you.  The  card  seemed  to  be  an 
ordinary  visiting  card ;  but  down  in  one  cor- 
ner was  a  tiny  and  beautifully  drawn  picture 
of  a  green  mouse." 

"A— what?" 

"  A  mouse." 

"G-green?" 

"  Pea    green.  .  .  .  Come,    now,    Smith,    if 

you  were  just  leaving  your  office  and  your 

clerk  should  come  in,  looking  rather  puzzled 

and  silly,  and  should  hand  you  a  card  with 

8 


ioo  The  Green  Mouse 

nothing  on  it  but  a  little  green  mouse, 
wouldn't  it  give  you  pause  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so." 

Brown  removed  his  straw  hat,  touched  his 
handsome  head  with  his  handkerchief,  and 
continued : 

"  I  said  to  Snuyder :  '  What  the  mischief  is 
this  ?  '  He  said :  '  It's  for  you.  And  there's 
an  exceedingly  pretty  girl  outside  who  ex- 
pects you  to  receive  her  for  a  few  moments.' 
I  said :  '  But  what  has  this  card  with  a  green 
mouse  on  it  got  to  do  with  that  girl  or  with 
me  ?  '  Snuyder  said  he  didn't  know  and  that 
I'd  better  ask  her.  So  I  looked  at  my  watch 
and  I  thought  of  you " 

"  Yes,  you  did." 

"  I  tell  you  I  did.  Then  I  looked  at  the 
card  with  the  green  mouse  on  it.  ...  And  I 
want  to  ask  you  frankly,  Smith,  what  would 
you  have  done  ?  " 

"  Oh,  what  you  did,  I  suppose,"  replied 
Smith,  wearily.  "  Go  on." 

"  I'm  going.    She  entered " 

"  She  was  tall  and  squeenly ;  you  probably 
forgot  that,"  observed  Smith  in  his  most  ob- 
jectionable manner. 

"  Probably  not ;  she  was  of  medium  height, 


In  Heaven  and 


as  a  detail  of  external  interest.  But,  although 
rather  unusually  attractive  in  a  merely  super- 
ficial and  physical  sense,  it  was  instantly  evi- 
dent from  her  speech  and  bearing,  that,  in 
her,  intellect  dominated;  her  mind,  Smithy, 
reigned  serene,  unsullied,  triumphant  over 
matter." 

Smith  looked  up  in  amazement,  but  Brown, 
a  reminiscent  smile  lighting  his  face,  went  on  : 

"  She  had  a  very  winsome  manner  —  a  way 
of  speaking  —  so  prettily  in  earnest,  so  grave. 
And  she  looked  squarely  at  me  all  the 
time  -  " 

"  So  you  contributed  to  the  Home  for  Un- 
employed Patagonians." 

"  Would  you  mind  shutting  up  ?  "  asked 
Brown. 

"  No." 

"  Then  try  to  listen  respectfully.  She  be- 
gan by  explaining  the  significance  of  that 
pea-green  mouse  on  the  card.  It  seems, 
Smith,  that  there  is  a  scientific  society  called 
The  Green  Mouse,  composed  of  a  few  people 
who  have  determined  to  apply,  practically, 
certain  theories  which  they  believe  have  com- 
mercial value." 

"  Was  she,"  inquired  Smith  with  misleading 


.\\  The  Green  Mouse 


politeness,  "  what  is  known  as  an  '  astrolo- 
gist'?" 

"  She  was  not.  She  is  the  president,  I  be- 
lieve, of  The  Green  Mouse  Society.  She  ex- 
plained to  me  that  it  has  been  indisputably 
proven  that  the  earth  is  not  only  enveloped 
by  those  invisible  electric  currents  which  are 
now  used  instead  of  wires  to  carry  telegraphic 
messages,  but  that  this  world  of  ours  is  also 
belted  by  countless  psychic  currents  which 
go  whirling  round  the  earth " 

"  What  kind  of  currents  ?  " 

"  Psychic." 

"Which  circle  the  earth?" 

"  Exactly.  If  you  want  to  send  a  wireless 
message  you  hitch  on  to  a  current,  don't  you  ? 
— or  you  tap  it — or  something.  Now,  they 
have  discovered  that  each  one  of  these  num- 
berless millions  of  psychic  currents  passes 
through  two,  living,  human  entities  of  oppo- 
site sex;  that,  for  example,  all  you  have  got 
to  do  to  communicate  with  the  person  who 
is  on  the  same  psychical  current  that  you  are, 
is  to  attune  your  subconscious  self  to  a  given 
intensity  and  pitch,  and  it  will  be  like  commu- 
nication by  telephone,  no  matter  how  far 
apart  you  are." 


"In  Heaven  and  Earth3'      103 

"  Brown !  " 

"What?" 

"  Did  she  go  to  your  office  to  tell  you  that 
sort  of — of — information  ?  " 

"  Partly.  She  was  perfectly  charming 
about  it.  She  explained  to  me  that  all  nature 
is  divided  into  predestined  pairs,  and  that 
somewhere,  at  some  time,  either  here  on 
earth  or  in  some  of  the  various  future  exist- 
ences, this  predestined  pair  is  certain  to  meet 
and  complete  the  universal  scheme  as  it  has 
been  planned.  Do  you  understand,  Smithy  ?  " 

Smith  sat  silent  and  reflective  for  a  while, 
then: 

"  You  say  that  her  theory  is  that  everybody 
owns  one  of  those  psychic  currents  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  I  am  on  a  private  psychic  current  whirl- 
ing around  this  globe  ?  " 

"  Sure." 

"  And  some — ah — young  girl  is  at  the  other 
end?" 

"  Sure  thing." 

"  Then  if  I  could  only  get  hold  of  my  end 
of  the  wire  I  could — ah — call  her  up  ?  " 

"  I  believe  that's  the  idea." 

"And— she's  for  muh?" 


104  The  Green  Mouse 

"  So  they  say." 

"  Is — is  there  any  way  to  get  a  look  at  her 
first?" 

"  You'd  have  to  take  her  anyway,  some- 
time." 

"  But  suppose  I  didn't  like  her?" 

The  two  young  men  sat  laughing  for  a  few 
moments,  then  Brown  went  on: 

"  You  see,  Smith,  my  interview  with  her 
was  such  a  curious  episode  that  about  all 
I  did  was  to  listen  to  what  she  was  saying, 
so  I  don't  know  how  details  are  worked  out. 
She  explained  to  me  that  The  Green  Mouse 
Society  has  just  been  formed,  not  only  for 
the  purpose  of  psychical  research,  but  for 
applying  practically  and  using  commercially 
the  discovery  of  the  psychic  currents.  That's 
what  The  Green  Mouse  is  trying  to  do :  form 
itself  into  a  company  and  issue  stocks  and 
bonds " 

"What?" 

"  Certainly.  It  sounds  like  a  madman's 
dream  at  first,  but  when  you  come  to  look 
into  it — for  instance,  think  of  the  millions  of 
clients  such  a  company  would  have.  As  ex- 
ample, a  young  man,  ready  for  marriage,  goes 
to  The  Green  Mouse  and  pays  a  fee.  The 


" In  Heaven  and  Earth"      105 

Green  Mouse  sorts  out,  identifies,  and  inter- 
cepts the  young  man's  own  particular  current, 
hitches  his  subconscious  self  to  it,  and  zip ! — 
he's  at  one  end  of  an  invisible  telephone  and 
the  only  girl  on  earth  is  at  the  other.  .  .  . 
What's  the  matter  with  their  making  a  quick 
date  for  an  introduction  ?  " 

Smith  said  slowly :  "  Do  you  mean  to  tell 
me  that  any  sane  person  came  to  you  in  your 
office  with  a  proposition  to  take  stock  in  such 
an  enterprise  ?  " 

"  She  did  not  even  suggest  it." 

"What  did  she  want,  then?" 

"She  wanted,"  said  Brown,  "a  perfectly 
normal,  unimaginative  business  man  who 
would  volunteer  to  permit  The  Green  Mouse 
Society  to  sort  out  his  psychic  current,  attach 
him  to  it,  and  see  what  would  happen." 

"  She  wants  to  experiment  on  you?  " 

"  So  I  understand." 

"  And — you're  not  going  to  let  her,  are 
you?" 

"Why  not?" 

"  Because  it's — it's  idiotic !  "  said  Smith, 
warmly.  "  I  don't  believe  in  such  things — 
you  don't,  either — nobody  does — but,  all  the 
same,  you  can't  be  perfectly  sure  in  these  days 


io6  The  Green  Mouse 

what  devilish  sort  of  game  you  might  be  up 
against." 

Brown  smiled.  "  I  told  her,  very  politely, 
that  I  found  it  quite  impossible  to  believe  in 
such  things;  and  she  was  awfully  nice  about 
it,  and  said  it  didn't  matter  what  I  believed. 
It  seems  that  my  name  was  chosen  by  chance 
— they  opened  the  Telephone  Directory  at 
random  and  she,  blindfolded,  made  a  pencil 
mark  on  the  margin  opposite  one  of  the  names 
on  the  page.  It  happened  to  be  my  name. 
That's  all." 

"/  wouldn't  let  her  do  it!"  said  Smith, 
seriously. 

"  Why  not,  as  long  as  there's  absolutely 
nothing  in  it?  Besides,  if  it  pleases  her  to 
have  a  try  why  shouldn't  she?  Besides,  I 
haven't  the  slightest  intention  or  desire  to 
woo  or  wed  anybody,  and  I'd  like  to  see  any- 
body make  me." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  told  her  to 
go  ahead  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Brown  serenely.  "  And 
she  thanked  me  very  prettily.  She's  well  bred 
— exceptionally." 

"  Oh !    Then  what  did  you  do  ?  " 

"  We  talked  a  little  while." 


"In  Heaven  and  Earth"      107 

"About  what?" 

"  Well,  for  instance,  I  mentioned  that  curi- 
ously-baffling sensation  which  comes  over 
everybody  at  times — the  sudden  conviction 
that  everything  that  you  say  and  do  has  been 
said  and  done  by  you  before — somewhere. 
Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes." 

"  And  she  smiled  and  said  that  such  sensa- 
tions were  merely  echoes  from  the  invisible 
psychic  wire,  and  that  repetitions  from  some 
previous  incarnation  were  not  unusual,  par- 
ticularly when  the  other  person  through 
whom  the  psychic  current  passed,  was  near 
by." 

"  You  mean  to  say  that  when  a  fellow  has 
that  queer  feeling  that  it  has  all  happened 
before,  the — the  predestined  girl  is  some- 
where in  your  neighborhood?" 

"  That  is  what  my  pretty  informant  told 
me." 

"  Who,"  asked  Smith,  "  is  this  pretty  in- 
formant ?  " 

"  She  asked  permission  to  withhold  her 
name." 

"  Didn't  she  ask  you  to  subscribe  ?  " 

"  No ;  she  merely  asked  for  the  use  of  my 


io8  The  Green  Mouse 

name  as  reference  for  future  clients  if  The 
Green  Mouse  Society  was  successful  in  my 
case." 

"What  did  you  say?" 

Brown  laughed.  "  I  said  that  if  any  indi- 
vidual or  group  of  individuals  could  induce 
me,  within  a  year,  to  fall  in  love  with  and 
pay  court  to  any  living  specimen  of  human 
woman  I'd  cheerfully  admit  it  from  the  house- 
tops and  take  pleasure  in  recommending  The 
Green  Mouse  to  everybody  I  knew  who  yet 
remained  unmarried." 

They  both  laughed. 

"  What  rot  we've  been  talking,"  observed 
Smith,  rising  and  picking  up  his  suitcase. 
"  Here's  our  station,  and  we'd  better  hustle 
or  we'll  lose  the  boat.  I  wouldn't  miss  that 
week-end  party  for  the  world !  " 

"  Neither  would  I,"  said  Beekman  Brown. 


* 


IX 

A   CROSS-TOWN   CAR 

Concerning  the  Sudden  Madness  of  One 
Brown 

AS  the  two  young  fellows,  carrying 
their  suitcases,  emerged  from  the 
subway  at  Times  Square  into  the 
midsummer  glare  and  racket  of  Broadway 
and  Forty-second  Street,  Brown  suddenly 
halted,  pressed  his  hand  to  his  forehead, 
gazed  earnestly  up  at  the  sky  as  though  try- 
ing to  recollect  how  to  fly,  then  abruptly 
gripped  Smith's  left  arm  just  above  the  elbow 
and  squeezed  it,  causing  the  latter  gentleman 
exquisite  discomfort. 

109 


no  The  Green  Mouse 

"  Here !  Stop  it !  "  protested  Smith,  wrig- 
gling with  annoyance. 

Brown  only  gazed  at  him  and  then  at  the 
sky. 

"  Stop  it ! "  repeated  Smith,  astonished. 
"  Why  do  you  pinch  me  and  then  look  at  the 
sky?  Is  —  is  a  monoplane  attempting  to- 
alight  on  me?  What  is  the  matter  with  you, 
anyway  ?  " 

"  That  peculiar  consciousness,"  said  Brown, 
dreamily,  "  is  creeping  over  me.  Don't  move 
— don't  speak — don't  interrupt  me,  Smith." 

"  Let  go  of  me !  "  retorted  Smith. 

"  Hush !  Wait !  It's  certainly  creeping 
over  me." 

"  What's  creeping  over  you  ?  " 

"  You  know  what  I  mean.  I  am  experien- 
cing that  strange  feeling  that  all — er — all 
this — has  happened  before." 

"  All  what  ?— confound  it !  " 

"  All  this!  My  standing,  on  a  hot  summer 
day,  in  the  infernal  din  of  some  great  city; 
and — and  I  seem  to  recall  it  vividly — after  a 
fashion — the  blazing  sun,  the  stifling  odor  of 
the  pavements ;  I  seem  to  remember  that  very 
hackman  over  there  sponging  the  nose  of  his 
horse — even  that  pushcart  piled  up  with 


A  Cross-town  Car  in 

peaches  !  Smith !  What  is  this  maddeningly 
elusive  memory  that  haunts  me — haunts  me 
with  the  peculiar  idea  that  it  has  all  occurred 
before  ?  .  .  .  Do  you  know  what  I  mean  ?  " 

"  I've  just  admitted  to  you  that  everybody 
has  that  sort  of  fidget  occasionally,  and  there's 
no  reason  to  stand  on  your  hindlegs  about  it. 
Come  on  or  we'll  miss  our  train." 

But  Beekman  Brown  remained  stock  still, 
his  youthful  and  attractive  features  puckered 
in  a  futile  effort  to  seize  the  evanescent  mem- 
ories that  came  swarming — gnatlike  mem- 
ories that  teased  and  distracted. 

"  It's  as  if  the  entire  circumstances  were 
strangely  familiar,"  he  said ;  "  as  though 
everything  that  you  and  I  do  and  say  had 
once  before  been  done  and  said  by  us  under 
precisely  similar  conditions — somewhere1 — 
sometime." 

"  We'll  miss  that  boat  at  the  foot  of  Forty- 
second  Street,"  cut  in  Smith  impatiently. 
"  And  if  we  miss  the  boat  we  lose  our  train." 

Brown  gazed  skyward. 

"  I  never  felt  this  feeling  so  strongly  in  all 
my  life,"  he  muttered ;  "  it's — it's  astonishing. 
Why,  Smith,  I  knew  you  were  going  to  say 
that." 


ii2  The  Green  Mouse 

"  Say  what  ?  "  demanded  Smith. 

"  That  we  would  miss  the  boat  and  the 
train.  Isn't  it  funny  ?  " 

"  Oh,  very.  I'll  say  it  again  sometime  if  it 
amuses  you;  but,  meanwhile,  as  we're  going 
to  that  week-end  at  the  Carringtons  we'd  bet- 
ter get  into  a  taxi  and  hustle  for  the  foot  of 
West  Forty-second  Street.  Is  there  anything 
very  funny  in  that  ?  " 

"  I  knew  that,  too.  I  knew  you'd  say  we 
must  take  a  taxi !  "  insisted  Brown,  astonished 
at  his  own  "  clairvoyance." 

"  Now,  look  here,"  retorted  Smith,  thor- 
oughly vexed ;  "  up  to  five  minutes  ago  you 
were  reasonable.  What  the  devil's  the  mat- 
ter with  you,  Beekman  Brown  ?  " 

"  James  Vanderdynk  Smith,  I  don't  know. 
Good  Heavens !  I  knew  you  were  going  to 
say  that  to  me,  and  that  I  was  going  to  an- 
swer that  way ! " 

"  Are  you  coming  or  are  you  going  to 
talk  foolish  on  this  broiling  curbstone  the 
rest  of  the  afternoon  ? "  inquired  Smith, 
fiercely. 

"  Jim,  I  tell  you  that  everything  we've  done 
and  said  in  the  last  five  minutes  we  have  done 
and  said  before — somewhere — perhaps  on 


A  Cross-town  Car  113 

some  other  planet;  perhaps  centuries  ago 
when  you  and  I  were  Romans  and  wore  to- 
gas 

"  Confound  it !  What  do  I  care,"  shouted 
Smith,  "  whether  we  were  Romans  and  wore 
togas?  We  are  due  this  century  at  a  house 
party  on  this  planet.  They  expect  us  on  this 
train.  Are  you  coming?  If  not — kindly  re- 
lax that  crablike  clutch  on  my  elbow  before 
partial  paralysis  ensues." 

"  Smith,  wait !  I  tell  you  this  is  somehow 
becoming  strangely  portentous.  I've  got  the 
funniest  sensation  that  something  is  going  to 
happen  to  me." 

"  It  will,"  said  Smith,  dangerously,  "  if  you 
don't  let  go  my  elbow." 

But  Beekman  Brown,  a  prey  to  increasing 
excitement,  clung  to  his  friend. 

"  Wait  just  one  moment,  Jim ;  something 
remarkable  is  likely  to  occur !  I — I  never  be- 
fore felt  this  way — so  strongly — in  all  my  life. 
Something  extraordinary  is  certainly  about  to 
happen  to  me." 

"  It  has  happened,"  said  his  friend,  coldly ; 
"  you've  gone  dippy.  Also,  we've  lost  that 
train.  Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  I  knew  we  would.    Isn't  that  curious  ?    I 


ii4  The  Green  Mouse 

— I  believe  I  can  almost  tell  you  what  else  is 
going  to  happen  to  us." 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  hissed  Smith ;  "  it's  an  am- 
bulance for  yours  and  ding-dong  to  the  funny- 
house  !  What  are  you  trying  to  do  now  ?  " 
with  real  misgiving,  for  Brown,  balanced  on 
the  edge  of  the  gutter,  began  waving  his  arms 
in  a  birdlike  way  as  though  about  to  launch 
himself  into  aerial  flight  across  Forty-second 
Street. 

"  The  car !  "  he  exclaimed  excitedly,  "  the 
cherry-colored  cross-town  car !  Where  is  it  ? 
Do  you  see  it  anywhere,  Smith  ?  " 

"  What  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?  There's  no 
cross-town  car  in  sight.  Brown,  don't  act 
like  that!  Don't  be  foolish!  What  on 
earth " 

"It's  coming!  There's  a  car  coming!" 
cried  Brown. 

"  Do  you  think  you're  a  racing  runabout 
and  I'm  a  curve?" 

Brown  waved  him  away  impatiently. 

"  I  tell  you  that  something  most  astonish- 
ing is  going  to  occur — in  a  cherry-colored 
tram  car.  .  .  .  And  somehow  there'll  be  some 
reason  for  me  to  get  into  it." 

"Into  what?" 


A  Cross-town  Car  1 1 5 

"  Into  that  cherry-colored  car,  because — be- 
cause— there'll  be  a  wicker  basket  in  it — 
somebody  holding  a  wicker  basket — and 
there'll  be — there'll  be — a — a — white  summer 
gown — and  a  big  white  hat " 

Smith  stared  at  his  friend  in  grief  and 
amazement.  Brown  stood  balancing  himself 
on  the  gutter's  edge,  pale,  rapt,  uttering  in- 
coherent prophecy  concerning  the  advent  of 
a  car  not  yet  visible  anywhere  in  the  im- 
mediate metropolitan  vista. 

"  Old  man,"  began  Smith  with  emotion,  "  I 
think  you  had  better  come  very  quietly  some- 
where with  me.  I — I  want  to  show  you  some- 
thing pretty  and  nice." 

"  Hark !  "  exclaimed  Brown. 

"  Sure,  Pll  hark  for  you,"  said  Smith, 
soothingly,  "  or  I'll  bark  for  you  if  you  like, 
or  anything  if  you'll  just  come  quietly." 

"  The  cherry-colored  car !  "  cried  Brown, 
laboring  under  tremendous  emotion.  "  Look, 
Smithy !  That  is  the  car !  " 

"  Sure,  it  is !  I  see  it,  old  man.  They  run 
'em  every  five  minutes.  What  the  devil  is 
there  to  astonish  anybody  about  a  cross-town 
cruiser  with  a  red  water  line  ?  " 

"  Look !  "  insisted  Brown,  now  almost  be- 


,n  6  The  Green  Mouse 

side  himself.  "  The  wicker  basket !  The  sum- 
mer gown  !  Exactly  as  I  foretold  it !  The  big 
straw  hat !— the— the  girl!  " 

And  shoving  Smith  violently  away  he  gal- 
loped after  the  cherry-colored  car,  caught  it, 
swung  himself  aboard,  and  sank  triumphant 
and  breathless  into  the  transverse  seat  behind 
that  occupied  by  a  wicker  basket,  a  filmy 
summer  frock,  a  big,  white  straw  hat,  and — 
a  girl — the  most  amazingly  pretty  girl  he  had 
ever  laid  eyes  on.  After  him,  headlong,  like  a 
distracted  chicken,  rushed  Smith  and  alighted 
beside  him,  panting,  menacing. 

"  Wha'  —  dyeh  —  board— this— car— for !  " 
he  gasped,  sliding  fiercely  up  beside  Brown. 
"  Get  off  or  I'll  drag  you  off ! " 

But  Brown  only  shook  his  head  with  an  in- 
fatuated smile. 

"  Is  it  that  girl  ? "  said  Smith,  incensed. 
"  Are  you  a — a  Broadway  Don  Juan,  or  are 
you  a  respectable  lawyer  with  a  glimmering 
sense  of  common  decency  and  an  intention 
to  keep  a  social  engagement  at  the  Carring- 
tons'  to-day  ?  " 

And  Smith  drew  out  his  timepiece  and 
flourished  it  furiously  under  Brown's  hand- 
some and  sun-tanned  nose. 


A  Cross-town  Car  117 

But  Brown  only  slid  along  the  seat  away 
from  him,  saying : 

"  Don't  bother  me,  Jim ;  this  is  too  mo- 
mentous a  crisis  in  my  life  to  have  a  well- 
intentioned  but  intellectually  dwarfed  friend 
butting  into  me  and  running  about  under 
foot." 

"Intellectually  d-d — do  you  mean  me?" 
asked  Smith,  unable  to  believe  his  ears.  "  Do 
you?" 

"  Yes,  I  do !  Because  a  miracle  suddenly 
happens  to  me  on  Forty-second  Street,  and 
you,  with  your  mind  of  a  stockbroker,  unable 
to  appreciate  it,  come  clattering  and  clamor- 
ing after  me  about  a  house  party — a  common- 
place, every-day,  social  appointment,  when  I 
have  a  full-blown  miracle  on  my  hands ! " 

"What  miracle?"  faltered  Smith,  stupe- 
fied. 

"What  miracle?  Haven't  I  been  telling  you 
that  I've  been  having  that  queer  sense  that 
all  this  has  happened  before?  Didn't  I  sud- 
denly begin — as  though  compelled  by  some 
unseen  power — to  foretell  things?  Didn't  I 
prophesy  the  coming  of  this  cross-town  car? 
Didn't  I  even  name  its  color  before  it  came 
into  sight?  Didn't  I  warn  you  that  I'd 


n8  The  Green  Mouse 

probably  get  into  it?  Didn't  I  reveal  to  you 
that  a  big  straw  hat  and  a  pretty  summer 
gown " 

"  Confound  it ! "  almost  shouted  Smith, 
"  there  are  about  five  thousand  cherry-col- 
ored cross-town  cars  in  this  town.  There  are 
about  five  million  white  hats  and  dresses  in 
this  borough.  There  are  five  billion  girls 
wearing  'em " 

"Yes;  but  the  wicker  basket!"  breathed 
Brown.  "  How  do  you  account  for  that?  .  .  . 
And,  anyway,  you  annoy  me,  Smith.  Why 
don't  you  get  out  of  the  car  and  go  some- 
where ?  " 

"  I  want  to  know  where  you  are  going  be- 
fore I  knock  your  head  off." 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Brown,  serenely. 

"  Are  you  actually  attempting  to  follow 
that  girl  ?  "  whispered  Smith,  horrified. 

"  Yes.  ...  It  sounds  low,  doesn't  it  ?  But 
it  really  isn't.  It  is  something  I  can't  explain 
— you  couldn't  understand  even  if  I  tried  to 
enlighten  you.  The  sentiment  I  harbor  is  too 
lofty  for  some  to  comprehend,  too  vague,  too 
pure,  too  ethereal  for " 

"  I'm  as  lofty  and  ethereal  as  you 
are ! "  retorted  Smith,  hotly.  "  And  I  know 


A  Cross-town  Car  119 

a — an  ethereal  Lothario  when  I  see  him, 
too ! " 

"  I'm  not — though  it  looks  like  it — and  I 
forgive  you,  Smithy,  for  losing  your  temper 
and  using  such  language." 

"  Oh,  you  do  ?  "  said  Smith,  grinning  with 
rage. 

"  Yes,"  nodded  Brown,  kindly.  "  I  forgive 
you,  but  don't  call  me  that  again.  You  mean 
well,  but  I'm  going  to  find  out  at  last  what 
all  this  maddening,  tantalizing,  unexplained 
and  mysterious  feeling  that  it  all  has  occurred 
before  really  is.  I'm  going  to  trace  it  to  its 
source;  I'm  going  to  compare  notes  with 
this  highly  intelligent  girl." 

"  You're  going  to  speak  to  her  ?  " 

"  I  am.  I  must.  How  else  can  I  compare 
data." 

"  I  hope  she'll  call  the  police.  If  she  doesn't 
/  will." 

"  Don't  worry.  She's  part  of  this  strange 
situation.  She'll  comprehend  as  soon  as  I 
begin  to  explain.  She  is  intelligent;  you 
only  have  to  look  at  her  to  understand  that." 

Smith  choking  with  impotent  fury,  never- 
theless ventured  a  swift  glance.  Her  unde- 
niable beauty  only  exasperated  him.  "  To 


i2O  The  Green  Mouse 

think — to  think,"  he  burst  out,  "  that  a  mod- 
est, decent,  law-loving  business  man  like  me 
should  suddenly  awake  to  find  his  boyhood 
friend  had  turned  into  a  godless  votary  of 
Venus ! " 

"  I'm  not  a  votary  of  Venus !  "  retorted 
Brown,  turning  pink.  "  I'll  punch  you  if  you 
say  it  again.  I'm  as  decent  and  respectable  a 
business  man  a*s  you  are!  And  my  grammar 
is  better.  And,  thank  Heaven!  I've  intellect 
enough  to  recognize  a  miracle  when  it  hap- 
pens to  me.  .  .  .  Do  you  think  I  am  capable 
of  harboring  any  sentiments  that  might  bring 
the  blush  of  coquetry  to  the  cheek  of  mod- 
esty ?  Do  you  ?  " 

"  Well — well,  /  don't  know  what  you're  up 
to !  "  Smith  raised  his  voice  in  bewilderment 
and  despair.  "  I  don't  know  what  possesses 
you  to  act  this  way.  People  don't  experience 
miracles  in  New  York  cross-town  cars.  The 
wildest  stretch  of  imagination  could  only 
make  a  coincidence  out  of  this.  There  are 
trillions  of  girls  in  cross-town  cars  dressed 
just  like  this  one." 

"  But  the  basket !  " 

"  Another  coincidence.  There  are  quad- 
rillions of  wicker  baskets." 


A  Cross-town  Car  121 

"  Not,"  said  Brown,  "  with  the  contents  of 
this  one." 

"Why  not?" 

Smith  instinctively  turned  to  look  at  the 
basket  balanced  daintily  on  the  girl's  knees. 

He  strove  to  penetrate  its  wicker  exterior 
with  concentrated  gaze.  He  could  see  noth- 
ing but  wicker. 

"  Well,"  he  began  angrily,  "  what  is  in  that 
basket?  And  how  do  you  know  it — you 
lunatic?" 

"  Will  you  believe  me  if  I  tell  you  ?  " 

"If  you  can  offer  any  corroborative  evi- 
dence  " 

"  Well,  then— there's  a  cat  in  that  basket." 

"A— what?" 

"  A  cat." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  how  I  know,  but  there's  a 
big,  gray  cat  in  that  basket." 

"  Why  a  gray  one  ?  " 

"  I  can't  tell,  but  it  is  gray,  and  it  has  six 
toes  on  every  foot." 

Smith  truly  felt  that  he  was  now  being 
trifled  with. 

"  Brown,"  he  said,  trying  to  speak  civilly, 
"  if  anybody  in  the  five  boroughs  had  come 


122  The  Green  Mouse 

to  me  with  affidavits  and  told  me  yesterday 
how  you  were  going  to  behave  this  morn- 
ing  " 

His  voice,  rising  unconsciously  as  the  real- 
ization of  his  outrageous  wrongs  dawned 
upon  him,  rang  out  above  the  rattle  and 
grinding  of  the  car,  and  the  girl  turned  ab- 
ruptly and  looked  straight  at  him  and  then 
at  Brown. 

The  pure,  fearless  beauty  of  the  gaze,  the 
violet  eyes  widening  a  little  in  surprise,  si- 
lenced both  young  men. 

She  inspected  Brown  for  an  instant,  then 
turned  serenely  to  her  calm  contemplation  of 
the  crowded  street  once  more.  Yet  her  dainty, 
close-set  ears  looked  as  though  they  were 
listening. 

The  young  men  gazed  at  one  another. 

"  That  girl  is  well  bred,"  said  Smith  in  a 
low,  agitated  voice.  "  You — you  wouldn't 
think  of  venturing  to  speak  to  her ! " 

"  I'm  obliged  to,  I  tell  you !  This  all  hap- 
pened before.  I  recognize  everything  as  it 
occurs.  .  .  .  Even  to  your  making  a  general 
nuisance  of  yourself." 

Smith  straightened  up. 

"  I'm    going    to    push    you    forcibly    from 


'The  lid  of  the  basket  tilted  a  little.   .   .  .  Then  a  plaintive 
voice  said  'Meow-w!'" 


A  Cross-town  Car  123 

this  car.  Do  you  remember  that  in- 
cident?" 

"  No,"  said  Brown  with  conviction,  "  that 
incident  did  not  happen.  You  only  threatened 
to  do  it.  I  remember  now." 

In  spite  of  himself  Smith  felt  a  slight  chill 
creep  up  over  his  neck  and  inconvenience 
his  spine. 

He  said,  deeply  agitated :  "  What  a  terrible 
position  for  me  to  be  in — with  a  friend  sud- 
denly gone  mad  in  the  streets  of  New  York 
and  running  after  a  basket  containing  what 
he  believes  to  be  a  cat.  A  Cat!  Good " 

Brown  gripped  his  arm.  "  Watch  it !  "  he 
breathed. 

The  lid  of  the  basket  tilted  a  little,  between 
lid  and  rim  a  soft,  furry,  six-toed  gray  paw 
was  thrust  out.  Then  a  plaintive  voice  said, 
"  Meow-w !  " 


THE   LID   OFF 

An  Alliance,  Offensive,  Defensive,  and  Back- 
Pensive 

SMITH,  petrified,  looked  blankly  at  the 
paw. 
For  a  while  he  remained  stupidly  in- 
capable   of   speech   or    movement,    then,    as 
though  arousing  from  a  bad  dream: 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do,  anyway  ?  "  he 
asked  with  an  effort.  "  This  car  is  bound 
to  stop  sometime,  I  suppose,  and — and  then 
what  ?  " 

"  I   don't    know   what    I'm   going   to    do. 
124 


The  Lid  Off  125 

Whatever  I  do  will  be  the  thing  that  ought 
to  happen  to  me,  to  that  cat  and  to  that  girl 
— that  is  the  thing  which  is  destined  to  hap- 
pen. That's  all  I  know  about  it." 

His  friend  passed  an  unsteady  hand  across 
his  brow. 

"  This  whole  proceeding  is  becoming  a 
nightmare,"  he  said  unsteadily.  "  Am  I 
awake?  Is  this  Forty-second  Street?  Hold 
up  some  fingers,  Brown,  and  let  me  guess  how 
many  you  hold  up,  and  if  I  guess  wrong  I'm 
home  in  bed  asleep  and  the  whole  thing  is  off." 

Beekman  Brown  patted  his  friend  on  the 
shoulder. 

"  You  take  a  cab,  Smithy,  and  go  some- 
where. And  if  I  don't  come  go  on  alone  to 
the  Carringtons'.  .  .  .  You  don't  mind  going 
on  and  fixing  things  up  with  the  Carringtons, 
do  you  ?  " 

"  Brown,  do  you  believe  that  The  Green 
Mouse  Society  has  got  hold  of  you?  Do 
you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  and  don't  care.  .  .  .  Smith, 
I  ask  you  plainly,  did  you  ever  before  see  such 
a  perfectly  beautiful  girl  as  that  one  is  ?  " 

"  Beekman,  do  you  believe  anything  queer 
is  going  to  result?  You  don't  suppose  she 


126  The  Green  Mouse 

has  anything  to  do  with  this  extraordinary 
freak  of  yours  ?  " 

"  Anything  to  do  with  it  ?    How  ?  " 

"  I-  mean,"  he  sank  his  voice  to  hoarser 
depths,  "  how  do  you  know  but  that  this  girl, 
who  pretends  to  pay  no  attention  to  us,  might 
be  a — a — one  of  those  clever,  professional 
mesmerists  who  force  you  to  follow  'em,  and 
get  you  into  their  power,  and  exhibit  you,  and 
make  you  eat  raw  potatoes  and  tallow  can- 
dles and  tacks  before  an  audience." 

He  peeped  furtively  at  Brown,  who  did  not 
appear  uneasy. 

"  All  I'm  afraid  of,"  added  Smith,  sullenly, 
"  is  that  you'll  get  yourself  into  vaudeville 
or  the  patrol  wagon." 

He  waited,  but  Brown  made  no  reply. 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  he  said,  coldly.  "  I'll  take 
a  cab  back  to  the  boat." 

No  observation  from  Brown. 

"  So,  good-by,  old  fellow  " — with  some  emo- 
tion. 

"  Good-by,"  said  Beekman  Brown,  absently. 

In  fact,  he  did  not  even  notice  when  his 
thoroughly  offended  partner  left  the  car,  so 
intent  was  he  in  following  the  subtly  thrilling 
train  of  thought  which  tantalized  him, 


The  Lid  Off  127 

mocked  him,  led  him  nowhere,  yet  always 
lured  him  to  fresh  endeavor  of  memory. 
Where  had  all  this  occurred  before?  When? 
What  was  going  to  happen  next — happen  in- 
exorably, as  it  had  once  happened,  or  as  it 
once  should  have  happened,  in  some  dim,  by- 
gone age  when  he  and  that  basket  and  that 
cat  and  this  same  hauntingly  lovely  girl  ex- 
isted together  on  earth — or  perhaps  upon 
some  planet,  swimming  far  out  beyond  the 
ken  of  men  with  telescopes? 

He  looked  at  the  girl,  strove  to  consider 
her  impersonally,  for  her  youthful  beauty  be- 
gan to  disturb  him.  Then  cold  doubt  crept 
in ;  something  of  the  monstrosity  of  the  pro- 
ceeding chilled  his  enthusiasm  for  occult  re- 
search. Should  he  speak  to  her? 

Certainly,  it  was  a  dreadful  thing  to  do — 
an  offense  the  enormity  of  which  was  utterly 
inexcusable  except  under  the  stress  of  a  pure- 
ly impersonal  and  scientific  necessity  for  in- 
vestigating a  mental  phase  of  humanity  which 
had  always  thrilled  him  with  a  curiosity  most 
profound. 

He  folded  his  arms  and  began  to  review 
in  cold  blood  the  circumstances  which  had 
led  to  his  present  situation  in  a  cross-town 


128  The  Green  Mouse 

car.  Number  one,  and  he  held  up  one 
finger : 

As  it  comes,  at  times,  to  every  normal 
human,  the  odd  idea  had  come  to  him  that 
what  he  was  saying  and  doing  as  he  emerged 
from  the  subway  at  Times  Square  was  what 
he  had,  sometime,  somewhere,  said  and  done 
before  under  similar  circumstances.  That 
was  the  beginning. 

Number  two,  and  he  gravely  held  up  a 
second  finger: 

Always  before  when  this  idea  had  come 
to  bother  him  it  had  faded  after  a  moment  or 
two,  leaving  him  merely  uneasy  and  dissatis- 
fied. 

This  time  it  persisted — intruding,  annoy- 
ing, exasperating  him  in  his  efforts  to  remem- 
ber things  which  he  could  not  recollect. 

Number  three,  and  he  held  up  a  third  fin- 
ger: 

He  had  begun  to  remember!  As  soon  as 
he  or  Smith  said  or  did  anything  he  recol- 
lected having  said  or  done  it  sometime,  some- 
where, or  recollected  that  he  ought  to  have. 

Number  four — four  fingers  in  air,  stiff,  de- 
termined digits: 

He  had  not  only,  by  a  violent  concentration 


The  Lid  Off  129 

of  his  memory,  succeeded  in  recognizing  the 
things  said  and  done  as  having  been  said  and 
done  before,  but  suddenly  .he  became  aware 
that  he  was  going  to  be  able  to  foretell, 
vaguely,  certain  incidents  that  were  yet  to 
occur — like  the  prophesied  advent  of  the 
cherry-colored  car  and  the  hat,  gown,  and 
wicker  basket. 

He  now  had  four  fingers  in  the  air ;  he  ex- 
amined them  seriously,  and  then  stuck  up  the 
fifth. 

"  Here  I  am,"  he  thought,  "  awake,  per- 
fectly sane,  absolutely  respectable.  Why 
should  a  foolish  terror  of  convention  prevent 
me  from  asking  that  girl  whether  she  knows 
anything  which  might  throw  some  light  on 
this  most  interesting  mental  phenomenon? 
.  .  .  I'll  do  it." 

The  girl  turned  her  head  slightly;  speech 
and  the  politely  perfunctory  smile  froze  on  his 
lips. 

She  held  up  one  finger;  Brown's  heart 
leaped.  Was  that  some  cabalistic  sign  which 
he  ought  to  recognize?  But  she  was  merely 
signaling  the  conductor,  who  promptly  pulled 
the  bell  and  lifted  her  basket  for  her  when 
she  got  off. 


130  The  Green  Mouse 

She  thanked  him;  Brown  heard  her,  and 
the  crystalline  voice  began  to  ring  in  little 
bell-like  echoes  all  through  his  ears,  stirring 
endless  little  mysteries  of  memory. 

Brown  also  got  off;  his  legs  struck  up  a 
walk  of  their  own  volition,  carrying  him 
across  the  street,  hoisting  him  into  a  north- 
bound Lexington  Avenue  car,  and  landing 
him  in  a  seat  behind  the  one  where  she  had 
installed  herself  and  her  wicker  basket. 

She  seemed  to  be  having  some  difficulty 
with  the  wicker  basket;  beseeching  six-toed 
paws  were  thrust  out  persistently ;  soft  meows 
pleaded  for  the  right  of  liberty  and  pursuit 
of  feline  happiness.  Several  passengers 
smiled. 

Trouble  increased  as  the  car  whizzed  north- 
ward ;  the  meows  became  wilder ;  mad  scram- 
bles agitated  the  basket;  the  lid  bobbed  and 
creaked ;  the  girl  turned  a  vivid  pink  and, 
bending  close  over  the  basket,  attempted  to 
soothe  its  enervated  inmate. 

In  the  forties  she  managed  to  control  the 
situation;  in  the  fifties  a  frantic  rush  from 
within  burst  a  string  that  fastened  the  basket 
lid,  but  the  girl  held  it  down  with  energy. 

In  the  sixties  a  tempest  broke  loose  in  the 


The  Lid  Off  131 

basket;  harrowing  yowls  pierced  the  atmos- 
phere; the  girl,  crimson  with  embarrass- 
ment and  distress,  signaled  the  conductor  at 
Sixty-fourth  Street  and  descended,  clinging 
valiantly  to  a  basket  which  apparently  con- 
tained a  pack  of  firecrackers  in  process  of  ex- 
plosion. 

A  classical  heroine  in  dire  distress  invari- 
ably exclaims  aloud :  "  Will  no  one  aid  me  ?  " 
Brown,  whose  automatic  legs  had  compelled 
him  to  follow,  instinctively  awaited  some  sim- 
ilar appeal. 

It  came  unexpectedly;  the  kicking  basket 
escaped  from  her  arms,  the  lid  burst  open, 
and  an  extraordinarily  large,  healthy  and  in- 
dignant cat  flew  out,  tail  as  big  as  a  duster, 
and  fled  east  on  Sixty-fourth  Street. 

The  girl  in  the  summer  gown  and  white 
straw  hat  ran  after  the  cat.  Brown's  legs  ran, 
too. 

There  was,  and  is,  between  the  house  on 
the  northeast  corner  of  Sixty-fourth  Street 
and  Lexington  Avenue  and  the  next  house 
on  Sixty-fourth,  an  open  space  guarded  by 
an  iron  railing;  through  this  the  cat  darted, 
fur  on  end,  and,  with  a  flying  leap,  took  to 
the  back  fences. 
10 


132  The  Green  Mouse 


"  Oh !  "  gasped  the  girl. 

Then  Brown's  legs  did  an  extraordinary 
thing — they  began  to  scramble  and  kick  and 
shin  up  the  iron  railing,  hoisting  Brown  over ; 
and  Brown's  voice,  pleasant,  calm,  reassuring, 
was  busy,  too :  "  If  you  will  look  out  for  my 
suitcase  I  think  I  can  recover  your  cat.  .  .  . 
It  will  give  me  great  pleasure  to  recover  your 
cat.  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  have  the  opportu- 
nity of  recovering — puff — puff — your — puff 
— puff — c-cat !  "  And  he  dropped  inside  the 
iron  railing  and  paused  to  recover  his  breath. 

The  girl  came  up  to  the  railing  and  gazed 
anxiously  through  at  the  corner  of  the  only 
back  fence  she  could  perceive. 

"  What  a  perfectly  dreadful  thing  to  hap- 
pen !  "  she  said  in  a  voice  not  very  steady. 
"  It  is  exceedingly  nice  of  you  to  help  me 
catch  Clarence.  He  is  quite  beside  himself, 
poor  lamb !  You  see,  he  has  never  before 
been  in  the  city.  I — I  shall  be  distressed  be- 
yond m-measure  if  he  is  lost." 

"  He  went  over  those  fences,"  said  Brown, 
breathing  faster.  "  I  think  I'd  better  go 
after  him." 

"  Oh — would  you  mind  ?  I'd  be  so  very 
grateful.  It  seems  so  much  to  ask  of  you." 


The  Lid  Off  133 

"  I'll  do  it,"  said  Brown,  firmly.  "  Every 
boy  in  New  York  has  climbed  back  fences, 
and  I'm  only  thirty." 

"  It  is  most  kind  of  you ;  but — but  I  don't 
know  whether  you  could  possibly  get  him  to 
come  to  you.  Clarence  is  timid  with  strang- 
ers." 

Brown  had  already  clambered  on  to  the 
wooden  fence.  He  balanced  himself  there, 
astride.  Whitewash  liberally  decorated  coat 
and  trousers. 

"  I  see  him,"  he  said. 

"W-what  is  he  doing?" 

"  Squatting  on  a  trellis  three  back  yards 
away."  And  Brown  lifted  a  blandishing 
voice :  "  Here,  Clarence — Clarence — Clar- 
ence !  Here,  kitty — kitty — kitty!  Good 
pussy !  Nice  Clarence !  " 

"  Does  he  come  ?  "  inquired  the  girl,  peer- 
ing wistfully  through  the  railing. 

"  He  does  not,"  said  Brown.  "  Perhaps 
you  had  better  call." 

"  Here,  puss — puss — puss — puss !  "  she  be- 
gan gently  in  that  fascinating,  crystalline 
voice  which  seemed  to  set  tiny  silvery  chimes 
ringing  in  Brown's  ears :  "  Here,  Clarence, 
darling — Betty's  own  little  kitty-cat !  " 


134  The  Green  Mouse 

"  If  he  doesn't  come  to  that''  thought 
Brown,  "  he  is  a  brute."  And  aloud :  "  If 
you  could  only  let  him  see  you ;  he  sits  there 
blinking  at  me." 

"  Do  you  think  he'd  come  if  he.  saw  me  ?  " 

"  Who  wouldn't  ? "  thought  Brown,  and 
answered,  calmly :  "  I  think  so.  ...  Of 
course,  you  couldn't  get  up  here." 

"  I  could.  .  .  .  But  I'd  better  not.  .  .  . 
Besides,  I  live  only  a  few  houses  away — 
Number  161 — and  I  could  go  through  into 
the  back  yard." 

"  But  you'd  better  not  attempt  to  climb 
the  fence.  Have  one  of  the  servants  do  it; 
we'll  get  the  cat  between  us  then  and  corner 
him." 

"  There  are  no  servants  in  the  house.  It's 
closed  for  the  summer — all  boarded  up !  " 

"  Then  how  can  you  get  in  ?  " 

"  I  have  a  key  to  the  basement.  .  .  . 
Shall  I?" 

"  And  climb  up  on  the  fence  ?  " 

"  Yes — if  I  must — if  it's  necessary  to  save 
Clarence.  .  .  .  Shall  I?" 

"  Why  can't  I  shoo  him  into  your  yard." 

"  He  doesn't  know  our  yard.  He's  a  coun- 
try cat;  he's  never  stayed  in  town.  I  was 


The  Lid  Off  135 

taking  him  with  me  to  Oyster  Bay.  ...  I 
came  down  from  a  week-end  at  Stockbridge, 
where  some  relatives  kept  Clarence  for  us 
while  we  were  abroad  during  the  winter.  .  .  . 
I  meant  to  stop  and  get  some  things  in  the 
house  on  my  way  back  to  Oyster  Bay.  .  .  . 
Isn't  it  a  perfectly  wretched  situation?  .  .  . 
We — the  entire  family — adore  Clarence — and 
— I-I'm  so  anxious " 

Her  fascinating  underlip  trembled,  but  she 
controlled  it. 

"  I'll  get  that  cat  if  it  takes  a  month !  "  said 
Brown.  Then  he  flushed ;  he  had  not  meant 
to  speak  so  warmly. 

The  girl  flushed  too.  I  am  so  grateful.  .  .  . 
But  how " 

"  Wait,"  said  Brown ;  and,  addressing  Clar- 
ence in  a  softly  alluring  voice,  he  began  cau- 
tiously to  crawl  along  the  fences'  toward  that 
unresponsive  animal.  Presently  he  desisted, 
partly  on  account  of  a  conspiracy  engaged  in 
between  his  trousers  and  a  rusty  nail.  The 
girl  was  now  beyond  range  of  his  vision 
around  the  corner. 

"  Miss — ah — Miss — er — er — Betty  !  "  he 
called. 

"  Yes ! " 


1 36  The  Green  Mouse 

"  Clarence  has  retreated  over  another  back 
yard." 

"  How  horrid !  " 

"  How  far  down  do  you  live  ?  " 

She  named  the  number  of  doors,  anxiously 
adding :  "  Is  Clarence  farther  down  the  block  ? 
Oh,  please,  be  careful.  Please,  don't  drive 
him  past  our  yard.  If  you  will  wait  I — I'll 
let  myself  into  the  house  and — I'll  manage  to 
get  up  on  the  fence." 

"  You'll  ruin  your  gown." 

"  I  don't  care  about  my  gown." 

"  These  fences  are  the  limit !  Full  of  spikes 
and  nails.  .  .  .  Will  you  be  careful  ?  " 

"  Yes,  very." 

"  The  nails  are  rusty.  I — I  am  h-horribly 
afraid  of  lockjaw." 

"  Then  don't  remain  there  an  instant." 

"  I  mean — I'm  afraid  of  it  for  you." 

There  was  a  silence ;  they  couldn't  see  each 
other.  Brown's  heart  was  beating  fast. 

"It  is  very  generous  of  you  to — think 
of  me,"  came  her  voice,  lower  but  very 
friendly. 

"  I  ca-can't  avoid  it,"  he  stammered,  and 
wanted  to  kick  himself  for  what  he  had 
blurted  out. 


The  Lid  Off  137 

^Another  pause — longer  this  time.  And 
then: 

"  I  am  going  to  enter  my  house  and  climb 
up  on  the  fence.  .  .  .  Would  you  mind  wait- 
ing a  moment  ?  " 

"  I  will  wait  here/'  said  Beekman  Brown, 
"  until  I  see  you."  He  added  to  himself:  "  I'm 
going  mad  rapidly  and  I  know  it  and  don't 
care.  .  .  .  What— a— girl !  " 

While  he  waited,  legs  swinging,  astride  the 
back  fence,  he  examined  his  injuries — 
thoughtfully  touched  the  triangular  tear  in 
his  trousers,  inspected  minor  sartorial  and 
corporeal  lacerations,  set  his  hat  firmly  upon 
his  head,  and  gazed  across  the  monotony 
of  the  back-yard  fences  at  Clarence.  The 
cat  eyed  him  disrespectfully,  paws  tucked 
under,  tail  curled  up  against  his  well-fed 
flank  —  disillusioned,  disgusted,,  unapproach- 
able. 

Presently,  through  the  palings  of  a  back 
yard  on  Sixty-fifth  Street,  Brown  saw  a  small 
boy,  evidently  the  progeny  of  some  caretaker, 
regarding  him  intently. 

"  Say,  mister,"  he  began  as  soon  as  no- 
ticed, "  you  have  tore  your  pants  on  a 
nail." 


138  The  Green  Mouse 

"  Thanks,"  said  Brown,  coldly ;  "  will  you 
be  good  enough  to  mind  your  business  ?  " 

"  I  thought  I'd  tell  you,"  said  the  small 
boy,  delightedly  aware  that  the  information 
displeased  Brown.  "  They're  tore  awful,  too. 
That's  what  you  get  for  playin'  onto  back 
fences.  Y'orter  be  ashamed." 

Brown  feigned  unconsciousness  and  folded 
his  arms  with  dignity;  but  the  next  moment 
he  straightened  up,  quivering. 

"  You  young  devil !  "  he  said ;  "  if  you  pull 
that  slingshot  again  I'll  come  over  there  and 
destroy  you ! " 

At  the  same  moment  above  the  fence  line 
down  the  block  a  white  straw  hat  appeared ; 
then  a  youthful  face  becomingly  flushed ;  then 
two  dainty,  gloved  hands  grasping  the  top  of 
the  fence. 

"  I  am  here,"  she  called  across  to  him. 

The  small  boy,  who  had  climbed  to  the  top 
of  his  fence,  immediately  joined  the  conver- 
sation : 

"  Your  girl's  a  winner,  mister,"  he  ob- 
served, critically. 

"  Are  you  going  to  keep  quiet  ?  "  demanded 
Brown,  starting  across  the  fence. 

"  Sure,"    said    the    small    boy,    carelessly. 


The  Lid  Off  139 


And,  settling  down  on  his  lofty  perch  of  ob- 
servation, he  began  singing: 

" Lum'  me  an'  the  woild  is  mi-on" 

The  girl's  cheeks  became  pinker;  she 
looked  at  the  small  boy  appealingly. 

"  Little  boy,"  she  said,  "  if  you'll  run  away 
somewhere  I'll  give  you  ten  cents." 

"  No,"  said  the  terror,  "  I  want  to  see  him 
an'  you  catch  that  cat." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do,"  suggested 
Brown,  inspired.  "  I'll  give  you  a  dollar  if 
you'll  help  us  catch  the  cat." 

"  You're  on ! "  said  the  boy,  briskly. 
"  What'll  I  do  ?  Touch  her  up  with  this  bean- 
shooter?" 

"  No ;  put  that  thing  into  your  pocket ! " 
exclaimed  Brown,  sharply.  "  Now  climb 
across  to  Sixty-fourth  Street  and  stand  by 
that  iron  railing  so  that  the  cat  can't  bolt  out 
into  the  street,  and,"  he  added,  wrapping  a 
dollar  bill  around  a  rusty  nail  and  tossing  it 
across  the  fence,  "  here's  what's  coming  to 
you." 

The  small  boy  scrambled  over  nimbly,  ran 
squirrel-like  across  the  transverse  fence,, 
dipped,  swarmed  over  the  iron  railing  and 
stood  on  guard. 


14°  The  Green  Mouse 

"  Say,  mister/'  he  said,  "  if  the  cat  starts 
this  way  you  and  your  girl  start  a  hollerin' 
like " 

"  All  right,"  interrupted  Brown,  and  turned 
toward  the  vision  of  loveliness  and  distress 
which  was  now  standing  on  the  top  of  her 
own  back  fence  holding  fast  to  a  wistaria 
trellis  and  flattering  Clarence  with  low  and 
honeyed  appeals. 

The  cat,  however,  was  either  too  stupid  or 
too  confused  to  respond;  he  gazed  blankly 
at  his  mistress,  and  when  Brown  began  fur- 
tively edging  his  way  toward  him  Clarence 
arose,  stood  a  second  in  alert  indecision,  then 
began  to  back  away. 

"  We've  got  him  between  us !  "  called  out 
Brown.  "  If  you'll  stand  ready  to  seize  him 
when  I  drive  him " 

There  was  a  wild  scurry,  a  rush,  a  leap, 
frantic  clawing  for  foothold. 

"  Now,  Miss  Betty !  Quick  !  "  cried  Brown. 
"  Don't  let  him  pass  you." 

She  spread  her  skirts,  but  the  shameless 
Clarence  rushed  headlong  between  the  most 
delicately  ornamental  pair  of  ankles  in  Man- 
hattan. 

"  Oh-h !  "  cried  the  girl  in  soft  despair,  and 


The  Lid  Off  141 

made  a  futile  clutch ;  but  she  could  not  arrest 
the  flight  of  Clarence,  she  merely  upset  him, 
turning  him  for  an  instant  into  a  furry  pin- 
wheel,  whirling  through  mid-air,  landing  in 
her  yard,  rebounding  like  a  rubber  ball,  and 
disappearing,  with  one  flying  leap,  into  a 
narrow  opening  in  the  basement  masonry. 

"  Where  is  he  ?  "  asked  Brown,  precariously 
balanced  on  the  next  fence. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said,  "  this  is  becom- 
ing positively  ghastly.  He's  bolted  into  our 
cellar." 

"Why,  that's  all  right,  isn't  it?"  asked 
Brown.  "  All  you  have  to  do  is  to  go  inside, 
descend  to  the  cellar,  and  light  the  gas." 

"  There's  no  gas." 

"You  have  electric  light  ?" 

"  Yes,  but  it's  turned  off  at  the  main  office. 
The  house  is  closed  for  the  summer,  you 
know." 

Brown,  balancing  cautiously,  walked  the 
intervening  fence  like  an  amateur  on  a  tight- 
rope. 

Her  pretty  hat  was  a  trifle  on  one  side; 
her  cheeks  brilliant  with  excitement  and  anxi- 
ety. Utterly  oblivious  of  herself  and  of  ap- 
pearances in  her  increasing  solicitude  for  the 


142  The  Green  Mouse 

adored  Clarence,  she  sat  the  fence,  cross  sad- 
dle, balancing  with  one  hand  and  pointing 
with  the  other  to  the  barred  ventilator  into 
which  Clarence  had  darted. 

A  wisp  of  sunny  hair  blew  across  her 
crimson  cheek;  slender,  active,  excitedly  un- 
conscious of  self,  she  seemed  like  some  eager, 
adorable  little  gamin  perched  there,  intent  on 
mischief. 

"If  you'll  drop  into  our  yard,"  she 
said,  "  and  place  that  soap  box  against  the 
ventilator,  Clarence  can't  get  out  that 
way ! " 

It  was  done  before  she  finished  the  request. 
She  disengaged  herself  from  the  fencetop, 
swung  over,  hung  an  instant,  and  dropped 
into  a  soft  flower  bed. 

Breathing  fast,  disheveled,  they  confronted 
one  another  on  the  grass.  His  blue  suit  of 
serge  was  smeared  with  whitewash ;  her  gown 
was  a  sight.  She  felt  for  her  hat  instinctively, 
repinned  it  at  hazard,  looked  at  her  gloves, 
and  began  to  realize  what  she  had  done. 

"  I— I  couldn't  help  it,"  she  faltered ;  "  I 
couldn't  leave  Clarence  in  a  city  of  five 
m-million  strangers — all  alone — terrified  out 
of  his  senses — could  I  ?  I  had  rather — rather 


The  Lid  Off  143 


be  thought — anything  than  be  c-cruel  to  a 
helpless  animal." 

Brown  dared  not  trust  himself  to  answer. 
She  was  too  beautiful  and  his  emotion  was 
too  deep.  So  he  bent  over  and  attempted  to 
dust  his  garments  with  the  flat  of  his  hand. 

"  I  am  so  sorry,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice. 
"  Are  your  clothes  quite  ruined  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind,"  he  protested  happily, 
"  I  really  don't  mind  a  bit.  If  you'll  only  let 
me  help  you  corner  that  infern — that  unfor- 
tunate cat  I  shall  be  perfectly  happy." 

She  said,  with  heightened  color:  "  It  is  ex- 
ceedingly nice  of  you  to  say  so.  ...  I — I 
don't  quite  know — what  do  you  think  we  had 
better  do  ?  " 

"  Suppose,"  he  said,  "  you  go  into  the 
basement,  unlock  the  cellar  door  and  call. 
He  can't  bolt  this,  way." 

She  nodded  and  entered  the  house.  A  few 
moments  later  he  heard  her  calling,  so  per- 
suasively that  it  was  all  he  could  do  not  to 
run  to  her,  and  why  on  earth  that  cat  didn't 
he  never  could  understand. 


XI 


BETTY 

In    Which    the   Remorseless   and   Inexorable 

Results  of  Psychical  Research  Are 

Revealed  to  the  Very  Young 

AT  intervals  for  the  next  ten  minutes 
her   fresh,   sweet,    fascinating   voice 
came  to  him  where  he  stood  in  the 
yard;  then  he  heard  it  growing  fainter,  more 
distant,  receding;  then  silence. 

Listening,  he  suddenly  heard  a  far,  rushing 

sound  from  subterranean  depths — like  a  load 

of  coal  being  put  in — then  a  frightened  cry. 

He  sprang  into  the  basement,  ran  through 

laundry  and  kitchen.    The  cellar  door  swung 

wide  open  above  the  stairs  which  ran  down 

144 


Betty  145 

into  darkness ;  and  as  he  halted  to  listen  Clar- 
ence dashed  up  out  of  the  depths,  scuttled 
around  the  stairs  and  fled  upward  into  the 
silent  regions  above. 

"  Betty !  "  he  cried,  forgetting  in  his  alarm 
the  lesser  conventions,  "  where  are  you?  " 

"  Oh,  dear — oh,  dear !  "  she  wailed.  "  I  am 
in  such  a  dreadful  plight.  Could  you  help  me, 
please?" 

"Are  you  hurt?"  he  asked.  Fright  made 
his  voice  almost  inaudible.  He  struck  a 
match  with  shaking  ringers  and  ran  down  the 
cellar  stairs. 

"  Betty  !    Where  are  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  am  here — in  the  coal.'* 

"What?" 

"  I — I  can't  seem  to  get  out ;  I  stepped  into 
the  coal  pit  in  the  dark  and  it  all — all  slid 
with  me  and  over  me  and  I'm  in  it  up  to  the 
shoulders." 

Another  match  flamed ;  he  saw  a  stump  of 
a  candle,  seized  it,  lighted  it,  and,  holding  it 
aloft,  gazed  down  upon  the  most  heart  rend- 
ing spectacle  he  had  ever  witnessed. 

The  next  instant  he  grasped  a  shovel  and 
leaped  to  the  rescue.  She  was  quite  calm 
about  it ;  the  situation  was  too  awful,  the  fu- 


146  The  Green  Mouse 

ture  too  hopeless  for  mere  tears.  What  had 
happened  contained  all  the  dignified  elements 
of  a  catastrophe.  They  both  realized  it,  and 
when,  madly  shoveling,  he  at  last  succeeded 
in  releasing  her  she  leaned  her  full  weight  on 
his  own,  breathing  rapidly,  and  suffered 
him  to  support  and  guide  her  through  the 
flame-shot  darkness  to  the  culinary  regions 
above. 

Here  she  sank  down  on  a  chair  for  one  mo- 
ment in  utter  collapse.  Then  she  looked  up, 
resolutely  steadying  her  voice: 

"  Could  anything  on  earth  more  awful  have 
happened  to  a  girl?"  she  asked,  lips  quiver- 
ing in  spite  of  her.  She  stretched  out  what 
had  once  been  a  pair  of  white  gloves,  she 
looked  down  at  what  had  been  a  delicate 
summer  gown  of  white." 

"  How,"  she  asked  with  terrible  calmness, 
"am  I  to  get  to  Oyster  Bay?" 

He  dropped  on  to  a  kitchen  chair  opposite 
her,  clasping  his  coal-stained  hands  between 
his  knees,  utterly  incapable  of  speech. 

She  looked  at  her  shoes — once  snowy 
white ;  with  a  shudder  she  stripped  the  soiled 
gloves  from  elbow  to  wrist  and  flung  them 
aside.  Her  arms  and  hands  formed  a  start- 


Betty  147 

ling  contrast  to  the  remainder  of  the  en- 
semble. 

"  What/'  she  asked,  "  am  I  to  do?  " 

"The  thing  to  do,"  he  said,  "is  to  tele- 
phone to  your  family  at  Oyster  Bay." 

"  The  telephone  has  been  disconnected.  So 
has  the  water — we  can't  even  w-wash  our 
hands !  "  she  faltered. 

He  said :  "  I  can  go  out  and  telephone  to 
your  family  to  send  a  maid  with  some  clothes 
for  you — if  you  don't  mind  being  left  alone 
in  an  empty  house  for  a  little  while." 

"  No,  I  don't ;  but,"  she  gazed  uncertainly 
at  the  black  opening  of  the  cellar,  "  but, 
please,  don't  be  gone  very  long,  will  you?" 

He  promised  fervidly.  She  gave  him  the 
number  and  her  family's  name,  and  he  left 
by  the  basement  door. 

He  was  gone  a  long  time,  during  which, 
for  a  while,  she  paced  the  floor,  unaffectedly 
wringing  her  hands  and  contemplating  herself 
and  her  garments  in  the  laundry  looking- 
glass. 

At  intervals  she  tried  to  turn  on  the  water, 
hoping  for  a  few  drops  at  least;  at  intervals 
she  sat  down  to  wait  for  him;  then,  the  in- 
action becoming  unendurable,  musing  goaded 
11 


148  The  Green  Mouse 

her  into  motion,  and  she  ascended  to  the 
floor  above,  groping  through  the  dimness  in 
futile  search  for  Clarence.  She  heard  him 
somewhere  in  obscurity,  scurrying  under  fur- 
niture at  her  approach,  evidently  too  thor- 
oughly demoralized  to  recognize  her  voice. 
So,  after  a  while,  she  gave  it  up  and  wandered 
down  to  the  pantry,  instinct  leading  her,  for 
she  was  hungry  and  thirsty;  but  she  knew 
there  could  be  nothing  eatable  in  a  house 
closed  for  the  summer. 

She  lifted  the  pantry  window  and  opened 
the  blinds;  noon  sunshine  flooded  the  place, 
and  she  began  opening  cupboards  and  re- 
frigerators, growing  hungrier  every  moment. 

Then  her  eyes  fell  upon  dozens  of  bottles 
of  Apollinaris,  and  with  a  little  cry  of  delight 
she  knelt  down,  gathered  up  all  she  could 
carry,  and  ran  upstairs  to  the  bathroom 
adjoining  her  own  bedchamber. 

"  At  least,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  I  can 
cleanse  myself  of  this  dreadful  coal !  "  and 
in  a  few  moments  she  was  reveling,  elbow 
deep,  in  a  marble  basin  brimming  with 
Apollinaris. 

As  the  stain  of  the  coal  disappeared  she 
remembered  a  rose-colored  morning  gown  re- 


Betty  149 

posing  in  her  bedroom  clothespress ;  and  she 
found  more  than  that  there — rose  stockings 
and  slippers  and  a  fragrant  pile  of  exquisitely 
fine  and  more  intimate  garments,  so  tempting 
in  their  freshness  that  she  hurried  with  them 
into  the  dressing  room ;  then  began  to  make 
rapid  journeys  up  and  downstairs,  carrying 
dozens  of  quarts  of  Apollinaris  to  the  big 
porcelain  tub,  into  which  she  emptied  them, 
talking  happily  to  herself  all  the  time. 

"  If  he  returns  I  can  talk  to  him  over  the 
banisters !  .  .  .  He's  a  nice  boy.  .  .  .  Such  a 
funny  boy  not  to  remember  me.  .  .  .  And 
I've  thought  of  him  quite  often.  ...  I  won- 
der if  I've  time  for  just  one,  delicious 
plunge  ? "  She  listened ;  ran  to  the  front 
windows  and  looked  out  through  the  blinds. 
He  was  nowhere  in  sight. 

Ten  minutes  later,  delightfully  refreshed, 
she  stood  regarding  herself  in  her  lovely  rose- 
tinted  morning  gown,  patting  her  bright  hair 
into  discipline  with  slim,  deft  fingers,  a  half- 
smile  on  her  lips,  lids  closing  a  trifle  over  the 
pensive  violet  eyes. 

"  Now,"  she  said  aloud,  "  I'll  talk  to  him 
over  the  banisters  when  he  returns ;  it's  a  lit- 
tle ungracious,  I  suppose,  after  all  he  has 


150  The  Green  Mouse 

done,  but  it's  more  conventional.  .  .  .  And 
I'll  sit  here  and  read  until  they  send  some- 
body from  Sandcrest  with  a  gown  I  can 
travel  in.  .  .  .  And  then  we'll  catch  Clarence 
and  call  a  cab " 

A  distant  tinkling  from  the  area  bell  in- 
terrupted her. 

"  Oh,  dear,"  she  exclaimed,  "  I  quite  forgot 
that  I  had  to  let  him  in !  " 

Another  tinkle.  She  cast  a  hurried  and 
doubtful  glance  over  her  attire.  It  was  de- 
signed for  the  intimacy  of  her  boudoir. 

"  I — I  couldn't  talk  to  him  out  of  the  win- 
dow !  I've  been  shocking  enough  as  it  is !  " 
she  thought ;  and,  finger  tips  on  the  banisters, 
she  ran  down  the  three  stairs  and  appeared 
at  the  basement  grille,  breathless,  radiant, 
forgetting,  as  usual,  her  self-consciousness  in 
thinking  of  him,  a  habit  of  this  somewhat 
harebrained  and  headlong  girl  which  had  its 
root  in  perfect  health  of  body  and  wholesome- 
ness  of  mind. 

"  I  found  some  clothes — not  the  sort  I  can 
go  out  in  !  "  she  said,  laughing  at  his  astonish- 
ment, as  she  unlocked  the  grille.  "  So, 
please,  overlook  my  attire ;  I  was  so  full  of 
coal  dust!  and  I  found  sufficient  Apollinaris 


Betty  I51 

for  my  necessities.  .  .  .  What  did  they  say  at 
Sandcrest?" 

He  said  very  soberly :  "  We've  got  to  dis- 
cuss this  situation.  Perhaps  I  had  better 
come  in  for  a  few  minutes— if  you  don't 
mind." 

"  No,  I  don't  mind.  .  .  .  Shall  we  sit  in  the 
drying  room  ?  "  leading  the  way.  "  Now  tell 
me  what  is  the  matter?  You  rather  frighten 
me,  you  know.  Is — is  anything  wrong  at 
Sandcrest  ?  " 

"  No,  I  suppose  not."  He  touched  his 
flushed  face  with  his  handkerchief;  "I 
couldn't  get  Oyster  Bay  on  the  'phone." 

"  W-why  not?" 

"  The  wires  are  out  of  commission  as  far 
as  Huntington ;  there's  no  use — I  tried  every- 
thing! Telegraph  and  telephone  wires  were 
knocked. out  in  this  morning's  electric  storm, 
it  seems." 

She  gazed  at  him,  hands  folded  on  her 
knee,  left  leg  crossed  over,  foot  swinging. 

"  This,"  she  said  calmly,  "  is  becoming 
serious.  Will  you  tell  me  what  I  am  to  do  ?  " 

"  Haven't  you  anything  to  travel  in  ?  " 

"  Not  one  solitary  rag." 

"  Then — you'll  have  to  stay  here  to-night 


152  The  Green  Mouse 

and  send  for  some  of  your  friends — you 
surely  know  somebody  who  is  still  in  town, 
don't  you  ?  " 

"  I  really  don't.  This  is  the  middle  of  July. 
I  don't  know  a  woman  in  town." 

He  was  silent. 

"  Besides,"  she  said,  "  we  have  no  light,  no 
water,  nothing  to  eat  in  the  house,  no  tele- 
phone to  order  anything " 

He  said :  "  I  foresaw  that  you  would  prob- 
ably be  obliged  to  remain  here,  so  when  I 
left  the  telephone  office  I  took  the  liberty  of 
calling  a  taxi  and  visiting  the  electric  light 
people,  the  telephone  people  and  the  nearest 
plumber.  It  seems  he  is  your  own  plumber — 
Quinn,  I  believe  his  name  is;  and  he's  com- 
ing in  half  an  hour  to  turn  on  the  water." 

"Did  you  think  of  doing  all  that?"  she 
asked,  astonished. 

"  Oh,  that  wasn't  anything.  And  I  ven- 
tured to  telephone  the  Plaza  to  serve  lunch- 
eon and  dinner  here  for  you " 

"  You  did?  " 

"  And  I  wired  to  Dooley's  Agency  to  send 
you  a  maid  for  to-day " 

"  That  was  perfectly  splendid  of  you !  " 

"  They  promised  to  send  one  as  soon  as 


Betty  153 

possible.  .  .  .  And  I  think  that  may  be  the 
plumber  how/'  as  a  tinkle  came  from  the 
area  bell. 

It  was  not  the  plumber;  it  was  waiters 
bearing  baskets  full  of  silver,  china,  table 
linen,  ice,  fruits,  confections,  cut  flowers,  and, 
in  warmers,  a  most  delectable  luncheon. 

Four  impressive  individuals  commanded  by 
a  butler  formed  the  processional,  filing  sol- 
emnly up  the  basement  stairs  to  the  dining 
room,  where  they  instantly  began  to  lay  the 
table  with  dexterous  celerity. 

In  the  drying  room  below  Betty  and  Beek- 
man  Brown  stood  confronting  each  other. 

"  I  suppose,"  began  Brown  with  an  effort, 
"  that  I  had  better  go  now." 

Betty  said  thoughtfully:  "I  suppose  you 
must." 

"  Unless,"  continued  Brown,  "  you  think  I 
had  better  remain — somewhere  on  the  prem- 
ises— until  your  maid  arrives." 

"  That  might  be  safer,"  said  Betty,  more 
thoughtfully. 

"  Your  maid  will  probably  be  here  in  a  few 
minutes." 

"  Probably,"  said  Betty,  head  bent,  slim, 
ringless  fingers  busy  with  the  sparkling 


154  The  Green  Mouse 

drop  that  glimmered  pendant  from  her  neck- 
chain. 

Silence — the  ironing  board  between  them — 
she  standing,  bright  head  lowered,  worrying 
the  jewel  with  childish  fingers ;  he  following 
every  movement,  fascinated,  spellbound. 

After  a  moment,  without  looking  up :  "  You 
have  been  very,  very  nice  to  me — in  the  nicest 
possible  way,"  she  said.  ..."  I  am  not  go- 
ing to  forget  it  easily — even  if  I  might 
wish  to." 

"  I  can  never  forget  you!  ...  I  d-don't 
want  to." 

The  sparkling  pendant  escaped  her  fingers ; 
she  picked  it  up  again  and  spoke  as  though 
gravely  addressing  it : 

"  Some  day  somewhere,"  she  said,  looking 
at  the  jewel,  "  perhaps  chance — the  hazard  of 
life — may  bring  us  to — togeth — to  acquaint- 
ance— a  more  formal  acquaintance  than  this. 
...  I  hope  so.  This  has  been  a  little — irregu- 
lar, and  perhaps  you  had  better  not  wait  for 
my  maid.  ...  I  hope  we  may  meet — some- 
time." 

"  I  hope  so,  too,"  he  managed  to  say,  with 
so  little  fervor  and  so  successful  an  imitation 
of  her  politely  detached  interest  in  convention 


Betty  155 

that  she  raised  her  eyes.  They  dropped  im- 
mediately, because  his  quiet  voice  and  speech 
scarcely  conformed  to  the  uncontrolled  pro- 
test in  his  eyes. 

For  a  moment  she  stood,  passing  the  gold- 
en links  through  her  white  fingers  like  a 
young  novice  with  a  rosary.  Steps  on  the 
stairs  disturbed  them ;  the  recessional  had  be- 
gun; four  solemn  persons  filed  out  the  area 
gate.  At  the  same  moment,  suave  and  re- 
spectful, her  butler  pro  tern,  presented  him- 
self at  the  doorway: 

"  Luncheon  is  served,  madam." 

"  Thank  you."  She  looked  uncertainly  at 
Brown,  hesitated,  flushed  a  trifle. 

"  I  will  stay  here  and  admit  the  plumber 
and  then — then — I'll  g-go,"  he  said  with  a 
heartbroken  smile. 

"  I  suppose  you  took  the  opportunity  to 
lunch  when  you  went  out  ?  "  she  said.  Her 
inflection  made  it  a  question. 

Without  answering  he  stepped  back  to  al- 
low her  to  pass.  She  moved  forward,  turned, 
undecided. 

"  Have  you  lunched  ?  " 

"  Please  don't  feel  that  you  ought  to  ask 
me,"  he  began,  and  checked  himself  as  the 


156  The  Green  Mouse 

vivid  pink  deepened  in  her  cheeks.  Then 
she  freed  herself  of  embarrassment  with  a  lit- 
tle laugh. 

"  Considering,"  she  said,  "  that  we  have 
been  chasing  cats  on  the  back  fences  together 
and  that,  subsequently,  you  dug  me  out  of  the 
coal  in  my  own  cellar,  I  can't  believe  it  is 
very  dreadful  if  I  ask  you  to  luncheon  with 
me.  ...  Is  it?" 

"  It  is  ador — it  is,"  he  corrected  himself 
firmly,  "  exceedingly  civil  of  you  to  ask 
me!" 

"  Then — will  you  ?  "  almost  timidly. 

"  I  will.  I  shall  not  pretend  any  more.  I'd 
rather  lunch  with  you  than  be  President  of 
this  Republic." 

The  butler  pro  tern,  seated  her. 

"  You  see,"  she  said,  "  a  place  had  already 
been  laid  for  you."  And  with  the  faintest 
trace  of  malice  in  her  voice :  "  Perhaps  your 
butler  had  his  orders  to  lay  two  covers. 
Had  he?" 

"  From  me  ?  "  he  protested,  reddening. 

"  You  don't  suspect  me,  do  you  ? "  she 
asked,  adorably  mischievous.  Then  glancing 
over  the  masses  of  flowers  in  the  center  and 
at  the  corners  of  the  lace  cloth :  "  This  is  de- 


Betty  157 

liciously  pretty.  But  you  are  either  dread- 
fully and  habitually  extravagant  or  you  be- 
lieve I  am.  Which  is  it?  " 

"  I  think  both  are  true,"  he  said,  laughing. 

And  a  little  while  later  when  he  returned 
from  the  basement  after  admitting  Mr.  Quinn, 
the  plumber: 

"  Do  you  know  that  this  is  a  most  heavenly 
luncheon  ? "  she  said,  greeting  his  return 
with  delightfully  fearless  eyes.  "  Such  As- 
trakan  caviar!  Such  salad!  Everything  I 
care  for  most.  And  how  on  earth  you 
guessed  I  can't  imagine.  .  .  .  I'm  beginning 
to  think  you  are  rather  wonderful." 

They  lifted  the  long,  slender  glasses  of  iced 
Ceylon  tea  and  regarded  one  another  over 
the  frosty  rims — a  long,  curious  glance  from 
her;  a  straight  gaze  from  him,  which  she  de- 
cided not  to  sustain  too  long. 

Later,  when  she  gave  the  signal,  they  rose 
as  though  they  had  often  dined  together,  and 
moved  leisurely  out  through  the  dim, 
shrouded  drawing-rooms  where,  in  the  golden 
dusk,  the  odor  of  camphor  hung. 

She  had  taken  a  great  cluster  of  dewy 
Bride's  roses  from  the  centerpiece,  and  as  she 
walked  forward,  sedately  youthful,  beside 


158  The  Green  Mous 

him,  her  fresh,  young  face  brooded  over  the 
fragrance  of  the  massed  petals. 

"  Sweet — how  sweet !  "  she  murmured  to 
herself,  and  as  they  reached  the  end  of  the 
vista  she  half  turned  to  face  him,  dreamily, 
listless,  confident. 

They  looked  at  one  another,  she  with  chin 
brushing  the  roses. 

"The  strangest  of  all,"  she  said,  "is  that 
it  seems  all  right — and — and  we  know  that 
it  is  all  quite  wrong.  .  .  .  Had  you  better 
.go?" 

"  Unless  I  ought  to  wait  and  make  sure 
your  maid  does  not  fail  you.  .  .  .  Shall  I  ?  " 
he  asked  evenly. 

She  did  not  answer.  He  drew  a  linen- 
swathed  armchair  toward  her;  she  absently 
seated  herself  and  lay  back,  caressing  the 
roses  with  delicate  lips  and  chin. 

Twice  she  looked  up  at  him,  standing  there 
by  the  boarded  windows.  Sunshine  filtered 
through  the  latticework  at  the  top— enough 
for  them  to  see  each  other  as  in  a  dull 
afterglow. 

"  I  wonder  how  soon  my  maid  will  come," 
she  mused,  dropping  the  loose  roses  on  her 
knees.  "  If  she  is  going  to  be  very  long 


Betty  159 

about  it  perhaps — perhaps  you  might  care  to 
find  a  chair — if  you  have  decided  to  wait." 

He  drew  one  from  a  corner  and  seated 
himself,  pulses  hammering  his  throat. 

Through  the  stillness  of  the  house  sounded 
at  intervals  the  clink  of  glass  from  the  pantry. 
Other  sounds  from  above  indicated  the  plum- 
ber's progress  from  floor  to  floor. 

"  Do  you  realize,"  she  said  impulsively, 
how  very  nice  you  have  been  to  me?  What 
a  perfectly  horrid  position  I  might  have  been 
in,  with  poor  Clarence  on  the  back  fence! 
And  suppose  I  had  dared  follow  him  alone 
to  the  cellar?  I — I  might  have  been  there 
yet — up  to  my  neck  in  coal  ?  " 

She  gazed  into  space  with  considerable 
emotion. 

"  And  now,"  she  said,  "  I  am  safe  here  in 
my  own  home.  I  have  lunched  divinely,  a 
maid  is  on  the  way  to  me,  Clarence  re- 
mains somewhere  safe  indoors,  Mr.  Quinn 
is  flitting  from  faucet  to  faucet,  the  electric 
light  and  the  telephone  will  be  in  working 
order  before  very  long — and  it  is  all  due  to 
you !  " 

"  I — I  did  a  few  things  I  almost  w-wish  I 
hadn't,"  stammered  Brown,  "  b-because  I 


160  The  Green  Mouse 

can't,  somehow,  decently  t-tell  you  how  tre- 
mendously I — I — "  He  stuck  fast. 

"What?" 

"  It  would  look  as  though  I  were  presum- 
ing on  a  t-trifling  service  rendered,  and — oh, 
I  can't  say  it ;  I  want  to,  but  I  can't." 

"  Say  what  ?  Please,  I  don't  mind  what 
you  are — are  going  to  say." 

"  It's— it's  that  I " 

"  Y-es  ?  "  in  soft  encouragement. 

"  W-want  to  know  you  most  tremendously 
now.  I  don't  want  to  wait  several  years  for 
chance  and  hazard." 

"  O-h !  "  as  though  the  information  con- 
veyed a  gentle  shock  to  her.  Her  low- 
breathed  exclamation  nearly  finished  Brown. 

"  I  knew  you'd  think  it  unpardonable  for 
me — at  such  a  time — to  venture  to — to — ask 
— say — express — convey " 

"  Why  do  you — how  can  I — where  could 
we — "  She  recovered  herself  resolutely.  "  I 
do  not  think  we  ought  to  take  advantage  of 
an  accident  like  this.  .  .  .  Do  you?  Besides, 
probably,  in  the  natural  course  of  social 
events " 

"  But  it  may  be  years !  months !  weeks  !  " 
insisted  Brown,  losing  control  of  himself. 


Betty  161 

"  I  should  hope  it  would  at  least  be  a 
decently  reasonable  interval  of  several 
weeks " 

"  But  I  don't  know  what  to  do  if  I  never 
see  you  again  for  weeks !  I  c-care  so  much 
— for — you." 

She  shrank  back  in  her  chair,  and  in  her 
altered  face  he  read  that  he  had  disgraced 
himself. 

"  I  knew  I  was  going  to,"  he  said  in  de- 
spair. "  I  couldn't  keep  it — I  couldn't  stop 
it.  And  now  that  you  see  what  sort  of  a  man 
I  am  I'm  going  to  tell  you  more." 

"  You  need  not,"  she  said  faintly. 

"  I  must.  Listen !  I — I  don't  even  know 
your  full  name — all  I  know  is  that  it  is  Betty, 
and  that  your  cat's  name  is  Clarence  and 
your  plumber's  name  is  Quinn.  But  if  I 
didn't  know  anything  at  all  concerning  you 
it  would  have  been  the  same.  I  suppose  you 
will  think  me  insane  if  I  tell  you  that  before 
the  car,  on  which  you  rode,  came  into  sight 
I  knew  you  were  on  it.  And  I — cared — for — 
you — before  I  ever  saw  you." 

"  I  don't  understand " 

"  I  know  you  don't.  /  don't.  All  I  under- 
stand is  that  what  you  and  I  have  done  has 


1 62  The  Green  Mouse 

been  done  by  us  before,  sometime,  some- 
where— part  only — down  to — down  to  where 
you  changed  cars.  Up  to  that  moment,  be- 
fore you  took  the  Lexington  Avenue  car,  I 
recognized  each  incident  as  it  occurred.  .  .  . 
But  when  all  this  happened  to  us  before 
I  must  have  lost  courage — for  I  did  not 
recognize  anything  after  that  except  that 
I  cared  for  you.  .  .  .  Do  you  understand 
one  single  word  of  what  I  have  been  say- 
ing?" 

The  burning  color  in  her  face  had  faded 
slowly  while  he  was  speaking;  her  lifted 
eyes  grew  softer,  serious,  as  he  ended  impet- 
uously. 

She  looked  at  him  in  retrospective  silence. 
There  was  no  mistaking  his  astonishing  sin- 
cerity, his  painfully  earnest  endeavor  to  im- 
part to  her  some  rather  unusual  ideas  in 
which  he  certainly  believed.  No  man  who 
looked  that  way  at  a  woman  could  mean  im- 
pertinence; her  own  intelligence  satisfied  her 
that  he  had  not  meant  and  could  never  mean 
offense  to  any  woman. 

"  Tell  me,"  she  said  quietly,  "  just  what  you 
mean.  It  is  not  possible  for  you  to — care — 
for — me.  .  .  Is  it  ?  " 


Betty  163 

He  disclosed  to  her,  beginning  briefly  with 
his  own  name,  material  and  social  circum- 
stances, a  pocket  edition  of  his  hitherto  un- 
eventful career,  the  advent  that  morning  of 
the  emissary  from  The  Green  Mouse,  his  dis- 
cussion with  Smith,  the  strange  sensation 
which  crept  over  him  as  he  emerged  from  the 
tunnel  at  Forty-second  Street,  his  subsequent 
altercation  with  Smith,  and  the  events  that 
ensued  up  to  the  eruption  of  Clarence. 

He  spoke  in  his  most  careful  attorney's 
manner,  frank,  concise,  convincing,  free  from 
any  exaggeration  of  excitement  or  emotion. 
And  she  listened,  alternately  fascinated  and 
appalled  as,  step  by  step,  his  story  unfolded 
the  links  in  an  apparently  inexorable  se- 
quence involving  this  young  man  and  herself 
in  a  predestined  string  of  episodes  not  yet 
ended — if  she  permitted  herself  to  credit  this 
astounding  story. 

Sensitively  intelligent,  there  was  no  escap- 
ing the  significance  of  the  only  possible  de- 
duction. She  drew  it  and  blushed  furiously. 
For  a  moment,  as  the  truth  clamored  in  her 
brain,  the  self-evidence  of  it  stunned  her.  But 
she  was  young,  and  the  shamed  recoil  came 
automatically.  Incredulous,  almost  exasper- 
12 


164  The  Green  Mouse 

ated,  she  raised  her  head  to  confront  him; 
the  red  lips  parted  in  outraged  protest — 
parted  and  remained  so,  wordless,  silent — the 
soundless,  virginal  cry  dying  unuttered  on 
a  mouth  that  had  imperceptibly  begun  to 
tremble. 

Her  head  sank  slowly;  she  laid  her  white 
hands  above  the  roses  heaped  in  her  lap. 

For  a  long  while  she  remained  so.  And  he 
did  not  speak. 

First  the  butler  went  away.  Then  Mr. 
Quinn  followed.  The  maid  had  not  yet  ar- 
rived. The  house  was  very  still. 

And  after  the  silence  had  worn  his  self- 
control  to  the  breaking  point  he  rose  and 
walked  to  the  dining  room  and  stood  looking 
down  into  the  yard.  The  grass  out  there  was 
long  and  unkempt;  roses  bloomed  on  the 
fence;  wistaria,  in  its  deeper  green  of  mid- 
summer, ran  riot  over  the  trellis  where  Clar- 
ence had  basely  dodged  his  lovely  mistress, 
and,  after  making  a  furry  pin  wheel  of  himself, 
had  fled  through  the  airhole  into  Stygian 
depths. 

Somewhere  above,  in  the  silent  house,  Clar- 
ence was  sulkily  dissembling. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Brown,  quietly  coming 


Betty  165 

back  to  where  the  girl  was  sitting  in  the  gold- 
en dusk,  "  that  I  might  as  well  find  Clarence 
while  we  are  waiting  for  your  maid.  May  I 
go  up  and  look  about  ?  " 

And  taking  her  silence  as  assent,  he  started 
upstairs. 

He  hunted  carefully,  thoroughly,  opening 
doors,  peeping  under  furniture,  investigating 
clothespresses,  listening  at  intervals,  at  in- 
tervals calling  with  misleading  mildness. 
But,  like  him  who  died  in  malmsey,  Clarence 
remained  perjured  and  false  to  all  sentiments 
of  decency  so  often  protested  purringly  to  his 
fair  young  mistress. 

Mechanically  Brown  opened  doors  of 
closets,  knowing,  if  he  had  stopped  to  think, 
that  cats  don't  usually  turn  knobs  and  let 
themselves  into  tightly  closed  places. 

In. one  big  closet  on  the  fifth  floor,  however, 
as  soon  as  he  opened  the  door  there  came  a 
rustle,  and  he  sprang  forward  to  intercept  the 
perfidious  one;  but  it  was  only  the  air  stir- 
ring the  folds  of  garments  hanging  on  the 
wall. 

As  he  turned  to  step  forth  again  the  door 
gently  closed  with  an  ominous  click,  shut- 
ting him  inside.  And  after  five  minutes'  fran- 


1 66  The  Green  Mouse 

tic  fussing  he  realized  that  he  was  imprisoned 
by  a  spring  lock  at  the  top  of  a  strange  house, 
inhabited  only  by  a  cat  and  a  bewildered 
young  girl,  who  might,  at  any  moment  now 
that  the  telephone  was  in  order,  call  a  cab  and 
flee  from  a  man  who  had  tried  to  explain  to 
her  that  they  were  irrevocably  predestined  for 
one  another. 

Calling  and  knocking  were  dignified  and 
permissible,  but  they  did  no  good.  To  kick 
violently  at  the  door  was  not  dignified,  but  he 
was  obliged  to  do  it.  Evidently  the  closet 
was  too  remote  for  the  sound  to  penetrate 
down  four  flights  of  stairs. 

He  tried  to  break  down  the  door — they 
do  it  in  all  novels.  He  only  rebounded  pain- 
fully, ineffectively,  which  served  him  right 
for  reading  fiction. 

It  irked  him  to  shout ;  he  hesitated  for  a 
long  while ;  then  sudden  misgiving  lest  she 
might  flee  the  house  seized  him  and  he  bel- 
lowed. It  was  no  use. 

The  pitchy  quality  of  the  blackness  in  the 
closet  aided  him  in  bruising  himself;  he  ran 
into  a  thousand  things  of  all  kinds  of  shapes 
and  textures  every  time  he  moved.  And  at 
each  fresh  bruise  he  grew  madder  and  madder, 


Betty  167 

and,  holding  the  cat  responsible,  applied  lan- 
guage to  Clarence  of  which  he  had  never 
dreamed  himself  capable. 

Then  he  sat  down.  He  remained  perfectly 
still  for  a  long  while,  listening  and  delicately 
feeling  his  hurts.  A  curious  drowsiness  be- 
gan to  irritate  him;  later  the  irritation  sub- 
sided and  he  felt  a  little  sleepy. 

His  heart,  however,  thumped  like  an  in- 
expensive clock;  the  cedar-tainted  air  in  the 
closet  grew  heavier;  he  felt  stupid,  swaying 
as  he  rose.  No  wonder,  for  the  closet  was 
as  near  air-tight  as  it  could  be  made.  Fortu- 
nately he  did  not  realize  it. 

And,  meanwhile,  downstairs,  Betty  was 
preparing  for  flight. 

She  did  not  know  where  she  was  going — 
how  far  away  she  could  get  in  a  rose-silk 
morning  gown.  But  she  had  discovered,  in 
a  clothespress,  an  automobile  duster,  cap, 
and  goggles;  on  the  strength  of  these  she 
tried  the  telephone,  found  it  working,  sum- 
moned a  coupe,  and  was  now  awaiting  its 
advent.  But  the  maid  from  Dooley's  must 
first  arrive  to  take  charge  of  the  house  and 
Clarence  until  she,  Betty,  could  summon  her 
family  to  her  assistance  and  defy  The  Green 


1 68  The  Green  Mouse 

Mouse,  Beekman  Brown,  and  Destiny  behind 
her  mother's  skirts. 

Flight  was,  therefore,  imperative — it  was 
absolutely  indispensable  that  she  put  a  num- 
ber of  miles  between  herself  and  this  young 
man  who  had  just  informed  her  that  Fate  had 
designed  them  for  one  another. 

She  was  no  longer  considering  whether  she 
owed  this  amazing  young  man  any  gratitude, 
or  what  sort  of  a  man  he  might  be,  agreeable, 
well-bred,  attractive;  all  she  understood  was 
that  this  man  had  suddenly  stepped  into  her 
life,  politely  expressing  his  conviction  that 
they  could  not,  ultimately,  hope  to  escape 
from  each  other.  And,  beginning  to  realize 
the  awful  import  of  his  words,  the  only  thing 
that  restrained  her  from  instant  flight  on  foot 
was  the  hidden  Clarence.  She  could  not 
abandon  her  cat.  She  must  wait  for  that 
maid.  She  waited.  Meanwhile  she  hunted 
up  Dooley's  Agency  in  the  telephone  book 
and  called  them  up.  They  told  her  the  maid 
was  on  the  way — as  though  Dooley's  Agency 
could  thwart  Destiny  with  a  whole  regiment 
of  its  employees ! 

She  had  discarded  her  roses  with  a  shud- 
der; cap,  goggles,  duster,  lay  in  her  lap.  If 


Betty  169 

the  maid  came  before  Brown  returned  she'd 
flee.  If  Brown  came  back  before  the  maid 
arrived  she'd  tell  him  plainly  what  she  had 
decided  on,  thank  him,  tell  him  kindly  but 
with  decision  that,  considering  the  incredible 
circumstances  of  their  encounter,  she  must 
decline  to  encourage  any  hope  he  might  en- 
tertain of  ever  again  seeing  her. 

At  this  stern  resolve  her  heart,  being  an 
automatic  and  independent  affair,  refused  to 
approve,  and  began  an  unpleasantly  irregular 
series  of  beats  which  annoyed  her. 

"  It  is  true,"  she  admitted  to  herself,  "  that 
he  is  a  gentleman,  and  I  can  scarcely  be  rude 
enough,  after  what  he  has  done  for  me,  to 
leave  him  without  any  explanation  at  all.  .  .  . 
His  clothes  are  ruined.  I  must  remember 
that." 

Her  heart  seemed  to  approve  such  senti- 
ments, and  it  beat  more  regularly  as  she 
seated  hersell  at  a  desk,  found  in  it  a  sheet 
of  notepaper  and  a  pencil,  and  wrote  rapidly : 

"  Dear  Mr.  Brown: 

"  If  my  maid  comes  before  you  do  I  am  go- 
ing. I  can't  help  it.  The  maid  will  stay  to 
look  after  Clarence  until  I  can  return  with 


17°  The  Green  Mouse 

some  of  the  family.  I  don't  mean  to  be  rude, 
but  I  simply  cannot  stand  what  you  told  me 
about  our — about  what  you  told  me.  .  .  .  I'm 
sorry  you  tore  your  clothes. 

"  Please  believe  my  flight  has  nothing  to  do 
with  you  personally  or  your  conduct,  which 
was  perfectly  ("  charming "  scratched  out) 
proper.  It  is  only  that  to  be  suddenly  told 
that  one  is  predestined  to  ("marry"  scratched 
out)  become  intimately  acquainted  (all  this 
scratched  out  and  a  new  line  begun). 

"  It  is  unendurable  for  a  girl  to  think  that 
there  is  no  freedom  of  choice  in  life  left 
her — to  be  forced,  by  what  you  say  are  occult 
currents,  into — friendship — with  a  perfectly 
strange  man  at  the  other  end.  So  I  don't 
think  we  had  better  ever  again  attempt  to 
find  anybody  to  present  us  to  each  other. 
This  doesn't  sound  right,  but  you  will  surely 
understand. 

"  Please  do  not  misjudge  me.  I  must  ap- 
pear to  you  uncivil,  ungrateful,  and  childish — 
but  I  am,  somehow,  a  little  frightened.  I  know 
you  are  perfectly  nice — but  all  that  has  hap- 
pened is  almost,  in  a  way,  terrifying  to  me. 
Not  that  I  am  cowardly ;  but  you  must  un- 
derstand. You  will — won't  you?  .  .  .  But 


Betty 


what  is  the  use  of  my  asking  you,  as  I  shall 
never  see  you  again. 

"  So  I  am  only  going  to  thank  you,  and  say 
("  with  all  my  heart,"  crossed  out)  very  cordi- 
ally, that  you  have  been  most  kind,  most  gen- 
erous and  considerate  —  most  —  most  -  " 

Her  pencil  faltered  ;  she  looked  into  space, 
and  the  image  of  Beekman  Brown,  pleasant- 
eyed,  attractive,  floated  unbidden  out  of  va- 
cancy and  looked  at  her. 

She  stared  back  at  the  vision  curiously, 
more  curiously  as  her  mind  evoked  the  agree- 
able details  of  his  features,  resting  there,  chin 
on  the  back  of  her  hand,  from  which,  pres- 
ently, the  pencil  fell  unheeded. 

What  could  he  be  doing  upstairs  all  this 
while.  She  had  not  heard  him  for  many  min- 
utes now.  Why  was  he  so  still? 

She  straightened  up  at  her  desk  and 
glanced  uneasily  across  her  shoulder,  listen- 
ing. 

Not  a  sound  from  above;  she  rose  and 
walked  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs. 

Why  was  he  so  still?  Had  he  found  Clar- 
ence? Had  anything  gone  wrong?  Had 
Clarence  become  suddenly  rabid  and  attacked 


The  Green  Mouse 


him.  Cats  can't  annihilate  big,  strong  young 
men.  But  where  was  he  ?  Had  he,  pursuing 
his  quest,  emerged  through  the  scuttle  on  to 
the  roof  —  and  —  and  —  fallen  off? 

Scarcely  knowing  what  she  did  she  mount- 
ed on  tiptoe  to  the  second  floor,  listening. 
The  silence  troubled  her  ;  she  went  from  room 
to  room,  opening  doors  and  clothespresses. 
Then  she  mounted  to  the  third  floor,  search- 
ing more  quickly.  On  the  fourth  floor  she 
called  to  him  in  a  voice  not  quite  steady. 
There  was  no  reply. 

Alarmed  now,  she  hurriedly  flung  open 
doors  everywhere,  then,  picking  up  her  rose- 
silk  skirts,  she  ran  to  the  top  floor  and  called 
tremulously. 

A  faint  sound  answered;  bewildered,  she 
turned  to  the  first  closet  at  hand,  and  her 
cheeks  suddenly  blanched  as  she  sprang  to 
the  door  of  the  cedar  press  and  tore  it  wide 
open. 

He  was  lying  on  his  face  amid  a  heap  of 
rolled  rugs,  clothes  hangers  and  furs,  quite 
motionless. 

She  knew  enough  to  run  into  the  servants' 
rooms,  fling  open  the  windows  and,  with  all 
the  strength  in  her  young  body,  drag  the  in- 


Betty  1 73 

animate  youth  across  the  floor  and  into  the 
fresh  air. 

"  O-h ! "  she  said,  and  said  it  only  once. 
Then,  ashy  of  lip  and  cheek,  she  took  hold  of 
Brown  and,  lashing  her  memory  to  help  her 
in  the  emergency,  performed  for  that  inani- 
mate gentleman  the  rudiments  of  an  exercise 
which,  if  done  properly,  is  supposed  to  induce 
artificial  respiration. 

It  certainly  induced  something  resembling 
it  in  Brown.  After  a  while  he  made  unlovely 
and  inarticulate  sounds ;  after  a  while  the 
sounds  became  articulate.  He  said:  "  Bet- 
ty !  "  several  times,  more  or  less  distinctly. 
He  opened  one  eye,  then  the  other ;  then 
his  hands  closed  on  the  hands  that  were  hold- 
ing his  wrists;  he  looked  up  at  her  from 
where  he  lay  on  the  floor.  She,  crouched 
beside  him,  eyes  still  dilated  with  the  awful 
fear  of  death,  looked  back,  breathless,  trem- 
bling. 

"  That  is  a  devil  of  a  place,  that  closet," 
he  said  faintly. 

She  tried  to  smile,  tried  wearily  to  free  her 
hands,  watched  them,  dazed,  being  drawn  to- 
ward him,  drawn  tight  against  his  lips — felt 
his  lips  on  them. 


174  The'  Green  Mouse 

Then,  without  warning,  an  incredible 
thrill  shot  through  her  to  the  heart,  still- 
ing it — silencing  pulse  and  breath — nay, 
thought  itself.  She  heard  him  speaking;  his- 
words  came  to  her  like  distant  sounds  in  a. 
dream : 

"  I  cared  for  you.  You  give  me  life — and 
I  adore  you.  .  .  .  Let  me.  It  will  not  harm 
you.  The  problem  of  life  is  solved  for  me ; 
I  have  solved  it ;  but  unless  some  day  you  will 
prove  it  for  me — Betty — the  problem  of  life 
is  but  a  sorry  sum — a  total  of  ciphers  with- 
out end.  .  .  .  No  other  two  people  in  all  the 
world  could  be  what  we  are  and  what  we  have 
been  to  each  other.  No  other  two  people 
could  dare  to  face  what  we  dare  face."  He 
paused :  "  Dare  we,  Betty  ?  " 

Her  eyes  turned  from  his.  He  rose  un- 
steadily, supported  on  one  arm;  she  sprang" 
to  her  feet,  looked  at  him,  and,  as  he  made 
an  awkward  effort  to  rise,  suddenly  bent  for- 
ward and  gave  him  both  hands  in  aid. 

"  Wait — wait !  "  she  said ;  "  let  me  try  to 
think,  if  I  can.  Don't  speak  to  me  again — 
not  yet — not  now." 

But,  at  intervals,  as  they  descended  the 
flights  of  stairs,  she  turned  instinctively  to 


Betty  175 

watch  his  progress,  for  he  still  moved  with 
difficulty. 

In  the  drawing-room  they  halted,  he  lean- 
ing heavily  on  the  back  of  a  chair,  she,  dis- 
trait, restless,  pacing  the  polished  parquet, 
treading  her  roses  under  foot,  turning  from 
time  to  time  to  look  at  him — a  strange,  direct, 
pure-lidded  gaze  that  seemed  to  freshen  his 
very  soul. 

Once  he  stooped  and  picked  up  one  of  the 
trodden  roses  bruised  by  her  slim  foot;  once, 
as  she  passed  him,  pacing  absently  the  space 
between  the  door  and  him,  he  spoke  her 
name. 

But :  "  Wait !  "  she  breathed.  "  You  have 
said  everything.  It  is  for  me  to  reply — if  I 
;speak  at  all.  C-can't  you  wait  for — me  ?  " 

"  Have  I  angered  you  ?  " 

She  halted,  head  high,  superb  in  her  slim, 
young  beauty. 

"Do  I  look  it?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Nor  I.    Let  me  find  out." 

The  room  had  become  dimmer;  the  light 
on  her  hair  and  face  and  hands  glimmered 
-dully  as  she  passed  and  repassed  him  in  her 
restless  progress — -restless,  dismayed,  fright- 


176  The  Green  Mouse 

ened  progress  toward  a  goal  she  already  saw 
ahead — close  ahead  of  her — every  time  she 
turned  to  look  at  him.  She  already  knew  the 
end. 

That  man !  And  she  knew  that  already  he 
must  be,  for  her,  something  that  she  could 
never  again  forget — something  she  must 
reckon  with  forever  and  ever  while  life  en- 
dured. 

She  paused  and  inspected  him  almost  in- 
solently. Suddenly  the  rush  of  the  last  revolt 
overwhelmed  her;  her  eyes  blazed,  her  white 
hands  tightened  into  two  small  clenched  fists 
— and  then  tumult  died  in  her  ringing  ears, 
the  brightness  of  the  eyes  was  quenched,  her 
hands  relaxed,  her  head  sank  low,  lower, 
never  again  to  look  on  this  man  undismayed, 
heart  free,  unafraid — never  again  to  look  into 
this  man's  eyes  with  the  unthinking,  unbe- 
lieving tranquillity  born  of  the  most  harmless 
skepticism  in  the  world. 

She  stood  there  in  silence,  heard  his  step 
beside  her,  raised  her  head  with  an  effort. 

"  Betty !  " 

Her  hands  quivered,  refusing  surrender. 
He  bent  and  lifted  them,  pressing  them  to 
his  eyes,  his  forehead.  Then  lowered  them 


Betty  177 

•to  the  level  of  his  lips,  holding  them  sus- 
pended, eyes  looking  into  hers,  waiting. 

Suddenly  her  eyes  closed,  a  convulsive  lit- 
tle tremor  swept  her,  she  pressed  both  clasped 
hands  against  his  lips,  her  own  moved,  but 
no  words  came — only  a  long,  sweet,  soundless 
sigh,  soft  as  the  breeze  that  stirs  the  crimson 
maple  buds  when  the  snows  of  spring  at  last 
begin  to  melt. 

From  a  dark  corner  under  the  piano  Clar- 
ence watched  them  furtively. 


XII 

SYBILLA 

Showing  What  Comes  of  Disobedience, 
Rosium,  and  Flour-Paste 

ABOUT  noon  Bushwyck  Carr  bounced 
into     the     gymnasium,     where     the 
triplets  had  just  finished  their  fenc- 
ing lesson. 

"  Did  any  of  you  three  go  into  the  labora- 
tory this  morning  ?  "  he  demanded,  his  voice 
terminating  in  a  sort  of  musical  bellow,  like 
the  blast  of  a  mellow  French  horn  on  a  tour- 
ing car. 

The  triplets — Flavilla,  Drusilla,  and  Sybilla 
— all   clothed   precisely   alike   in   knee   kilts, 
178 


Sybilla  1 79 


plastrons,  gauntlets  and  masks,  came  to  at- 
tention, saluting  their  parent  with  their  foils. 
The  Boznovian  fencing  mistress,  Madame 
Tzinglala,  gracefully  withdrew  to  the  dress- 
ing room  and  departed. 

"  Which  of  you  three  girls  went  into  the 
laboratory  this  morning?"  repeated  their 
father  impatiently. 

The  triplets  continued  to  stand  in  a  neat 
row,  the  buttons  of  their  foils  aligned  and 
resting  on  the  hardwood  floor.  In  graceful 
unison  they  removed  their  masks;  three 
flushed  and  unusually  pretty  faces  regarded 
the  author  of  their  being  attentively — more 
attentively  still  when  that  "round  and  ruddy 
gentleman,  executing  a  facial  contortion, 
screwed  his  monocle  into  an  angry  left  eye 
and  glared. 

."  Didn't  I  warn  you  to  keep  out  of  that 
laboratory?"  he  asked  wrathfully;  "didn't  I 
explain  to  you  that  it  was  none  of  your  busi- 
ness ?  I  believe  I  informed  you  that  whatever 
is  locked  up  in  that  room  is  no  concern  of 
yours.  Didn't  I?" 

"  Yes,  Pa-pah." 

"  Well,  confound  it,  what  did  you  go  in 

for,  then?" 
13 


180  The  Green  Mouse 

An  anxious  silence  was  his  answer. 

"  You  didn't  all  go  in,  did  you  ?  "  he  de- 
manded in  a  melodious  bellow. 

"  Oh,  no,  Pa-pah!  " 

"  Did  two  of  you  go  ?  " 

"  Oh-h,  n-o,  Pa-pah!  " 

"Well,  which  one  did?" 

The  line  of  beauty  wavered  for  a  moment ; 
then  Sybilla  stepped  slowly  to  the  front,  three 
paces,  and  halted  with  downcast  eyes. 

"  I  told  you  not  to,  didn't  I  ?  "  said  her 
father,  scowling  the  monocle  out  of  his  eye 
and  reinserting  it. 

"  Y-yes,  Pa-pah." 

"  But  you  did?  " 

«  Y-yes " 

"  That  will  do !  Flavilla !  Drusilla !  You 
are  excused,"  dismissing  the  two  guiltless 
triplets  with  a  wave  of  the  terrible  eyeglass ; 
and  when  they  had  faced  to  the  rear  and  re- 
tired in  good  order,  closing  the  door  behind 
them,  he  regarded  his  delinquent  daughter  in 
wrathy  and  rubicund  dismay. 

"  What  did  you  see  in  that  laboratory  ?  " 
he  demanded. 

Sybilla  began  to  count  on  her  fingers. 
"  As  I  walked  around  the  room  I  noticed  jars, 


Sybilla  181 


bottles,  tubes,  lamps,  retorts,  blowpipes, 
batteries " 

"  Did  you  notice  a  small,  shiny  machine 
that  somewhat  resembles  the  interior  econ- 
omy of  a  watch  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Pa-pah,  but  I  haven't  come  to  that 
yet " 

"  Did  you  go  near  it  ?  " 

"  Quite  near " 

"  You  didn't  touch  it,  did  you  ?  " 

"  I  was  going  to  tell  you " 

"  Did  you  ?  "  he  bellowed  musically.  "  An- 
swer me,  Sybilla !  " 

«  Y-yes— I  did." 

"  What  did  you  suppose  it  to  be  ?  " 

"  I  thought — we  all  thought — that  you  kept 
a  wireless  telephone  instrument  in  there " 

"  Why  ?  Just  because  I  happen  to  be  presi- 
dent of  the  Amalgamated  Wireless  Trust 
Company  ?  " 

!<  Yes.  And  we  were  dying  to  see  a  wire- 
less telephone  work.  ...  I  thought  I'd  like 
to  call  up  Central — just  to  be  sure  I  could 
make  the  thing  go —  What  is  the  matter, 
Pa-pah?  " 

He  dropped  into  a  wadded  armchair  and 
motioned  Sybilla  to  a  seat  opposite.  Then 


1 82  The  Green  Mouse 

with  another  frightful  facial  contortion  he  re- 
imbedded  the  monocle. 

"  So  you  deliberately  opened  that  door  and 
went  in  to  rummage  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  girl ;  "  we  were — skylarking 
a  little,  on  our  way  to  the  gymnasium ;  and  I 
gave  Drusilla  a  little  shove  toward  the  lab- 
oratory door,  and  then  Flavilla  pushed  me — 
very  gently — and  somehow  I — the  door  flew 
open  and  my  mask  fell  off  and  rolled  inside ; 
and  I  went  in  after  it.  That  is  how  it  hap- 
pened— partly." 

She  lifted  her  dark  and  very  beautiful  eyes 
to  her  stony  parent,  then  they  dropped,  and 
she  began  tracing  figures  and  arabesques  on 
the  polished  floor  with  the  point  of  her  foil. 
"  That  is  partly  how,"  she  repeated. 

"What  is  the  other  part?" 

"  The  other  part  was  that,  having  unfortu- 
nately disobeyed  you,  and  being  already  in  the 
room,  I  thought  I  might  as  well  stay  and  take 
a  little  peep  around " 

Her  father  fairly  bounced  in  his  padded 
chair.  The  velvet-eyed  descendant  of  Eve 
shot  a  fearful  glance  at  him  and  continued, 
still  casually  tracing  invisible  arabesques  with 
her  foil's  point. 


Sybilla  183 


"  You  see,  don't  you,"  she  said,  "  that  be- 
ing actually  in,  I  thought  I  might  as  well  do 
something  before  I  came  out  again,  which 
would  make  my  disobedience  worth  the  pun- 
ishment. So  I  first  picked  up  my  mask,  then 
I  took  a  scared  peep  around.  There  were  only 
jars  and  bottles  and  things.  ...  I  was  dread- 
fully disappointed.  The  certainty  of  being 
punished  and  then,  after  all,  seeing  nothing 
but  bottles,  did  seem  rather  unfair.  ...  So 
I — walked  around  to — to  see  if  I  could  find 
something  to  look  at  which  would  repay  me 
for  the  punishment.  .  .  .  There  is  a  proverb, 
isn't  there  Pa-pah? — something  about  being 
executed  for  a  lamb " 

"  Go  on !  "  he  said  sharply. 

"Well,  all  I  could  find  that  looked  as 
though  I  had  no  business  to  touch  it  was  a 
little  jeweled  machine "  , 

"  That  was  it !    Did  you  touch  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  several  times.    Was  it  a  wireless  ?  " 

"  Never  mind !  Yes,  it's  one  kind  of  a  wire- 
less instrument.  Go  on  !  " 

Sybilla  shook  her  head : 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  see  why  you  are  so  dis- 
turbingly emphatic ;  because  I  haven't  an  idea 
how  to  send  or  receive  a  wireless  message, 


184  The  Green  Mouse 

and  I  hadn't  the  vaguest  notion  how  that 
machine  might  work.  I  tried  very  hard  to 
make  it  go;  I  turned  several  screws  and 
pushed  all  the  push-buttons " 

Mr.  Carr  emitted  a  hollow,  despairing  sound 
— a  sort  of  musical  groan — and  feebly  plucked 
at  space. 

"  I  tried  every  lever,  screw,  and  spring," 
she  went  on  calmly,  "  but  the  machine  must 
have  been  out  of  order,  for  I  only  got  one 
miserable  little  spark " 

"You  got  a  spark?" 

"  Yes — just  a  tiny,  noiseless  atom  of  white 
fire- 

Her  father  bounced  to  his  feet  and  waved 
both  hands  at  her  distractedly. 

"  Do  you  know  what  you've  done  ?  "  he 
bellowed. 

"  N-no -" 

"  Well,  you've  prepared  yourself  to  fall  in 
love !  And  you've  probably  induced  some  in- 
describable pup  to  fall  in  love  with  you !  And 
that's  what  youVe  done  !  " 

«  In— love! " 

"  Yes,  you  have !  " 

"  But  how  can  a  common  wireless  tele- 
phone  " 


Sybilla  185 


"  It's  another  kind  of  a  wireless.  Your 
brother-in-law,  William  Destyn,  invented  it; 
I'm  backing  it  and  experimenting  with  it. 
I  told  you  to  keep  out  of  that  room.  I 
hung  up  a  sign  on  the  door:  'Danger! 
Keep  out!'" 

"  W-was  that  thing  loaded  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  was  loaded !  " 

"W-what  with?" 

"  Waves !  "  shouted  her  father,  furiously. 
"  Psychic  waves !  You  little  ninny,  we've  just 
discovered  that  the  world  and  everything  in  it 
is  enveloped  in  psychic  waves,  as  well  as  in- 
visible electric  currents.  The  minute  you  got 
near  that  machine  and  opened  the  receiver, 
waves  from  your  subconscious  personality 
flowed  into  it.  And  the  minute  you  touched 
that  spring  and  got  a  spark,  your  psychic 
waves  had  signaled,  by  wireless,  the  subcon- 
scious personality  of  some  young  man — 
some  insufferable  pup — who'll  come  from 
wherever  he  is  at  present — from  the  world's 
end  if  need  be — and  fall  in  love  with  you." 

Mr.  Carr  jumped  ponderously  up  and  down 
in  pure  fury;  his  daughter  regarded  him  in 
calm  consternation. 

"  I  am  so  very,  very  sorry,"  she  said ;  "  but 


1 86  The  Green  Mouse 

I  am  quite  certain  that  I  am  not  going  to  fall 
in  love " 

"  You  can't  help  it,"  roared  her  father,  "  if 
that  instrument  worked." 

"Is— is  that  what  it's  f-for?" 

"  That's  what  it's  invented  for ;  that's  why 
I'm  putting  a  million  into  it.  Anybody  on 
earth  desiring  to  meet  the  person  with  whom 
they're  destined,  some  time  or  other,  to  fall 
in  love,  can  come  to  us,  in  confidence,  buy 
a  ticket,  and  be  hitched  on  to  the  proper 
psychic  connection  which  insures  speedy 
courtship  and  marriage — Damnation  !  " 

"  Pa-pah! " 

"  I  can't  help  it !  Any  self-respecting,  God- 
fearing father  would  swear !  Do  you  think  I 
ever  expected  to  have  my  daughters  mixed 
up  with  this  machine  ?  My  daughters  wooed, 
engaged  and  married  by  machinery!  And 
you're  only  eighteen;  do  you  hear  me?  I 
won't  have  it !  I'll  certainly  not  have  it !  " 

"  But,  dear,  I  don't  in  the  least  intend  to 
fall  in  love  and  marry  at  eighteen.  And  if — 
he — really — comes,  I'll  tell  him  very  frankly 
that  I  could  not  think  of  falling  in  love.  I'll 
quietly  explain  that  the  machine  went  off  by 
mistake  and  that  I  am  only  eighteen;  and 


Sybilla  187 


that  Flavilla  and  Drusilla  and  I  are  not  to 
come  out  until  next  winter.  That,"  she  added 
innocently,  "  ought  to  hold  him." 

"  The  thing  to  do,"  said  her  father,  gazing 
fixedly  at  her,  "  is  to  keep  you  in  your  room 
until  you're  twenty !  " 

"  Oh,  Pa-pah! " 

Mr.  Carr  smote  his  florid  brow. 

"  You'll  stay  in  for  a  week,  anyway !  "  he 
thundered  mellifluously.  "  No  motoring 
party  for  you !  That's  your  punishment. 
You'll  be  safe  for  to-day,  anyhow;  and  by 
evening  William  Destyn  will  be  back  from 
Boston  and  I'll  consult  him  as  to  the  safest 
way  to  keep  you  out  of  the  path  of  this 
whippersnapper  you  have  managed  to  wake 
up — evoke — stir  out  of  space — wherever  he 
may  be — whoever  he  may  be — whatever  he 
chances  to  call  himself " 

"  George,"  she  murmured  involuntarily. 

"What!!" 

She  looked  at  her  father,  abashed,  con- 
fused. 

"  How  absurd  of  me,"  she  said.  "  I  don't 
know  why  I  should  have  thought  of  that 
name,  George;  or  why  I  should  have  said  it 
out  loud — that  way — I  really  don't " 


1 88  The  Green  Mouse 

"  Who  do  you  know  named  George  ?  " 

"  N-nobody  in  particular  that  I  can  think 
of " 

"  Sybilla !    Be  honest !  " 

"  Really,  I  don't ;  I  am  always  honest." 

He  knew  she  was  truthful,  always ;  but  he 
said: 

"  Then  why  the  devil  did  you  look — er — so, 
so  moonily  at  me  and  call  me  George  ?  " 

"  I  can't  imagine — I  can't  understand " 

"  Well,  /  can !  You  don't  realize  it,  but 
that  cub's  name  must  be  George!  I'll  look 
out  for  the  Georges.  I'm  glad  I've  been 
warned.  I'll  see  that  no  two-legged  object 
named  George  enters  this  house!  You'll 
never  go  anywhere  where  there's  anybody 
named  George  if  I  can  prevent  it." 

"  I — I  don't  want  to,"  she  returned,  almost 
ready  to  cry.  "  You  are  very  cruel  to  me " 

"  I  wish  to  be.  I  desire  to  be  a  monster !  " 
he  retorted  fiercely.  "  You're  an  exceedingly 
bad,  ungrateful,  undutiful,  disobedient  and 
foolish  child.  Your  sisters  and  I  are  going  to 
motor  to  Westchester  and  lunch  there  with 
your  sister  and  your  latest  brother-in-law. 
And  if  they  ask  why  you  didn't  come  I'll  tell 
them  that  it's  because  you're  undutiful,  and 


Sybilla  189 


that  you  are  not  to  stir  outdoors  for  a  week, 
or  see  anybody  who  comes  into  this  house ! " 

"  I — I  suppose  I  d-deserve  it,"  she  acqui- 
esced tearfully.  "  I'm  quite  ready  to  be  dis- 
ciplined, and  quite  willing  not  to  see  anybody 
named  George — ever!  Besides,  you  have 
scared  me  d-dreadfully !  I — I  don't  want  to 
go  out  of  the  house/' 

And  when  her  father  had  retired  with  a 
bounce  she  remained  alone  in  the  gymnasium, 
eyes  downcast,  lips  quivering.  Later  still,  sit- 
ting in  precisely  the  same  position,  she  heard 
the  soft  whir  of  the  touring  car  outside ;  then 
the  click  of  the  closing  door. 

"  There  they  go,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  and 
they'll  have  such  a  jolly  time,  and  all  those 
very  agreeable  Westchester  young  men  will 
be  there — particularly  Mr.  Montmorency. 
.  .  .  I  did  like  him  awfully ;  besides,  his  name 
is  Julian,  so  it  is  p-perfectly  safe  to  like  him 
— and  I  did  want  to  see  how  Sacharissa  looks 
after  her  bridal  trip." 

Her  lower  lip  trembled ;  she  steadied  it  be- 
tween her  teeth,  gazed  miserably  at  the  floor, 
and  beat  a  desolate  tattoo  on  it  with  the  tip 
of  her  foil. 

"  I  am  being  well  paid  for  my  disobedi- 


The  Green  Mouse 


ence,"  she  whimpered.  "  Now  I  can't  go  out 
for  a  week  ;  and  it's  April  ;  and  when  I  do  go 
out  I'll  be  so  anxious  all  the  while,  peeping 
furtively  at  every  man  who  passes  and  won- 
dering whether  his  name  might  be  George. 
.  .  .  And  it  is  going  to  be  horridly  awkward, 
too.  .  .  .  Fancy  their  bringing  up  some  harm- 
less dancing  man  named  George  to  present  to 
me  next  winter,  and  I,  terrified,  picking  up 
my  debutante  skirts  and  running.  .  .  .I'll  ac- 
tually be  obliged  to  flee  from  every  man  until 
I  know  his  name  isn't  George.  Oh,  dear! 
Oh,  dear!  What  an  awful  outlook  for  this 
summer  when  we  open  the  house  at  Oyster 
Bay  !  What  a  terrible  vista  for  next  winter  !  " 

She  naively  dabbed  a  tear  from  her  long 
lashes  with  the  back  of  her  gauntlet. 

Her  maid  came,  announcing  luncheon,  but 
she  would  have  none  of  it,  nor  any  other  of- 
fered office,  including  a  bath  and  a  house 
gown. 

"  You  go  away  somewhere,  Bowles,"  she 
said,  "  and  please,  don't  come  near  me,  and 
don't  let  anybody  come  anywhere  in  my  dis- 
tant vicinity,  because  I  am  v-very  unhappy, 
Bowles,  and  deserve  to  be  —  and  I  —  I  desire  to 
be  alone  with  c-conscience." 


Sybilla  191 


"  But,  Miss  Sybilla- 


"  No,  no,  no !  I  don't  even  wish  to  hear 
your  voice — or  anybody's.  I  don't  wish  to 
hear  a  single  human  sound  of  any  description. 
I — what  is  that  scraping  noise  in  the  li- 
brary?" 

"  A  man,  Miss  Sybilla " 

"A  man!     W-what's  his  name?" 

"  I  don't  know,  miss.  He's  a  workman — 
a  paper  hanger." 

"  Oh !  " 

"  Did  you  wish  me  to  ask  him  to  stop 
scraping,  miss  ?  " 

Sybilla  laughed :  "  No,  thank  you."  And  she 
continued,  amused  at  herself  after  her  maid 
had  withdrawn,  strolling  about  the  gymna- 
sium, making  passes  with  her  foil  at  ring, 
bar,  and  punching  bag.  Her  anxiety,  too, 
was  subsiding.  The  young  have  no  very 
great  capacity  for  continued  anxiety.  Be- 
sides, the  first  healthy  hint  of  incredulity  was 
already  creeping  in.  And  as  she  strolled 
about,  swishing  her  foil,  she  mused  aloud  at 
her  ease : 

"  What  an  extraordinary  and  horrid  ma- 
chine !  .  .  .  How  can  it  do  such  exceedingly 
common  things?  And  what  a  perfectly  un- 


192  The  Green  Mouse 

pleasant  way  to  fall  in  love — by  machinery! 
...  I  had  rather  not  know  who  I  am  some 
day  to — to  like — very  much.  ...  It  is  far 
more  interesting  to  meet  a  man  by  accident, 
and  never  suspect  you  may  ever  come  to  care 
for  him,  than  to  buy  a  ticket,  walk  over  to  a 
machine  full  of  psychic  waves  and  ring  up 
some  strange  man  somewhere  on  earth." 

With  a  shudder  of  disdain  she  dropped  on 
to  a  lounge  and  took  her  face  between  both 
hands. 

She  was  like  her  sisters,  tall,  prettily  built, 
and  articulated,  with  the  same  narrow  feet 
and  hands — always  graceful  when  lounging, 
no  matter  what  position  her  slim  limbs  fell 
into. 

And  now,  in  her  fencing  skirts  of  black  and 
her  black  stockings,  she  was  exceedingly  or- 
namental, with  the  severe  lines  of  the  plas- 
tron accenting  the  white  throat  and  chin,  and 
the  scarlet  heart  blazing  over  her  own  little 
heart — unvexed  by  such  details  as  love  and 
lovers.  Yes,  unvexed ;  for  she  had  about  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  her  father  had  fright- 
ened her  more  than  was  necessary;  that  the 
instrument  had  not  really  done  its  worst;  in 
fact,  that,  although  she  had  been  very  diso- 


Sybilla  193 


bedient,  she  had  had  a  rather  narrow  escape ; 
and  nothing  more  serious  than  paternal  dis- 
pleasure was  likely  to  be  visited  upon  her. 

Which  comforted  her  to  an  extent  that 
brought  a  return  of  appetite ;  and  she  rang 
for  luncheon,  and  ate  it  with  the  healthy  non- 
chalance usually  so  characteristic  of  her  and 
her  sisters. 

"  Now,"  she  reflected,  "  I'll  have  to  wait 
an  hour  for  my  bath  " — one  of  the  inculcated 
principles  of  domestic  hygiene.  So,  rising, 
she  strolled  across  the  gymnasium,  casting 
about  for  something  interesting  to  do. 

She  looked  out  of  the  back  windows.  In 
New  York  the  view  from  back  windows  is 
not  imposing. 

Tiring  of  the  inartistic  prospect  she  saun- 
tered out  and  downstairs  to  see  what  her 
maid  might  be  about.  Bowles  was  sewing; 
Sybilla  looked  on  for  a  while  with  languid 
interest,  then,  realizing  that  a  long  day  of 
punishment  was  before  her,  that  she  deserved 
it,  and  that  she  ought  to  perform  some  act 
of  penance,  started  contritely  for  the  library 
with  resolute  intentions  toward  Henry  James. 

As  she  entered  she  noticed  that  the  book- 
shelves, reaching  part  way  to  the  ceiling,  were 


194  The  Green  Mouse 

shrouded  in  sheets.  Also  she  encountered  a 
pair  of  sawhorses  overlaid  with  boards,  upon 
which  were  rolls  of  green  flock  paper,  several 
pairs  of  shears,  a  bucket  of  paste,  a  large, 
flat  brush,  a  knife  and  a  T-square. 

"  The  paper  hanger  man,"  she  said.  "  He's 
gone  to  lunch.  I'll  have  time  to  seize  on 
Henry  James  and  flee." 

Now  Henry  James,  like  some  other  sacred 
conventions,  was,  in  that  library,  a  movable 
feast.  Sometimes  he  stood  neatly  arranged 
on  one  shelf,  sometimes  on  another.  There 
was  no  counting  on  Henry. 

Sybilla  lifted  the  sheets  from  the  face  of 
one  case  and  peered  closer.  Henry  was  not 
visible.  She  lifted  the  sheets  from  another 
case;  no  Henry;  only  G.  P.  R.,  in  six  dozen 
rakish  volumes. 

Sybilla  peeped  into  a  third  case.  Then  a 
very  unedifying  thing  occurred.  Surely, 
surely,  this  was  Sybilla's  disobedient  day.  She 
saw  a  forbidden  book  glimmering  in  old, 
gilded  leather — she  saw  its  classic  back  turned 
mockingly  toward  her — the  whole  allure  of 
the  volume  was  impudent,  dog-eared,  devil- 
may-care-who-reads-me. 

She  took  it  out,  replaced  it,  looked  hard, 


Sybilla  195 


hard  for  Henry,  found  him  not,  glanced  side- 
ways at  the  dog-eared  one,  took  a  step  side- 
ways. 

"  I'll  just  see  where  it  was  printed,"  she  said 
to  herself,  drawing  out  the  book  and  backing 
off  hastily — so  hastily  that  she  came  into  col- 
lision with  the  sawhorse  table,  and  the  paste 
splashed  out  of  the  bucket. 

But  Sybilla  paid  no  heed ;  she  was  exam- 
ining the  title  page  of  old  Dog-ear:  a  rather 
wonderful  title  page,  printed  in  fascinating 
red  and  black  with  flourishes. 

"I'll  just  see  whether—"  And  the 
smooth,  white  fingers  hesitated;  but  she  had 
caught  a  glimpse  of  an  ancient  engraving  on 
the  next  page — a  very  quaint  one,  that  held 
her  fascinated. 

"  I  wonder " 

.  She  turned  the  next  page.  The  first  para- 
graph of  the  famous  classic  began  deliciously. 
After  a  few  moments  she  laughed,  adding  to 
herself :  "  I  can't  see  what  harm " 

There  was  no  harm.  Her  father  had  meant 
another  book ;  but  Sybilla  did  not  know  that. 

"I'll  just  glance  through  it  to — to — be  sure 
that  I  mustn't  read  it." 

She  laid  one  hand  on  the  paper  hanger's 
14 


196  The  Green  Mouse 

table,  vaulted  up  sideways,  and,  seated  on  the 
top,  legs  swinging,  buried  herself  in  the  book, 
unconscious  that  the  overturned  paste  was 
slowly  fastening  her  to  the  spattered  table 
top. 

An  hour  later,  hearing  steps  on  the  landing, 
she  sprang — that  is,  she  went  through  all  the 
graceful  motions  of  springing  lightly  to  the 
floor.  But  she  had  not  budged  an  inch.  No 
Gorgon's  head  could  have  consigned  her 
to  immovability  more  hopeless. 

Restrained  from  freedom  by  she  knew  not 
what,  she  made  one  frantic  and  demoralized 
effort — and  sank  back  in  terror  at  the  omi- 
nous tearing  sound. 

She  was  glued  irrevocably  to  the  table. 


XIII 

THE    CROWN    PRINCE 

Wherein  the  Green  Mouse  Squeaks 

A  FEW  minutes  later  the  paper  hang- 
ing young  man  entered,  swinging  an 
empty  dinner  pail  and  halted  in  polite 
surprise  before  a  flushed  young  girl  in   full 
fencing  costume,   who   sat   on   his   operating 
table,    feet    crossed,    convulsively   hugging   a 
book  to  the  scarlet  heart  embroidered  on  her 
plastron. 

"  I — hope  you  don't  mind  my  sitting  here," 
she  managed  to  say.  "  I  wanted  to  watch  the 
work." 

"  By  all  means,"  he  said  pleasantly.    "  Let 

me  get  you  a  chair " 

197 


198  The  Green  Mouse 

"  No,  thank  you.  I  had  rather  sit  th-this 
way.  Please  begin  and  don't  mind  if  I  watch 
you." 

The  young  man  appeared  to  be  perplexed. 

"  I'm  afraid,"  he  ventured,  "  that  I  may 
require  that  table  for  cutting  and " 

"  Please — if  you  don't  mind — begin  to 
paste.  I  am  in-intensely  interested  in  p-past- 
ing — I  like  to  w-watch  p-paper  p-pasted  on 
a  w-wall." 

Her  small  teeth  chattered  in  spite  of  her; 
she  strove  to  control  her  voice — strove  to 
collect  her  wits. 

He  stood  irresolute,  rather  astonished, 
too. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  he  said,  "  but " 

"  Please  paste ;  won't  you?  "  she  asked. 

"  Why,  I've  got  to  have  that  table  to  paste 
on " 

"  Then  d-don't  think  of  pasting.  D-do  any- 
thing else ;  cut  out  some  strips.  I  am  so  in- 
terested in  watching  p-paper  hangers  cut 
out  things " 

"  But  I  need  the  table  for  that,  too " 

"  No,  you  don't.  You  can't  be  a — a  very 
skillful  w-workman  if  you've  got  to  use  your 
table  for  everything " 


I'm  afraid,'  he  ventured,  'that  I  may  require  that  table 
for  cutting. ' ' ' 


The  Crown  Prince  199 

He  laughed.  "  You  are  quite  right ;  I'm 
not  a  skillful  paper  hanger." 

"  Then,"  she  said,  "  I  am  surprised  that  you 
came  here  to  paper  our  library,  and  I  think 
you  had  better  go  back  to  your  shop  and 
send  a  competent  man." 

He  laughed  again.  The  paper  hanger's 
youthful  face  was  curiously  attractive  when 
he  laughed — and  otherwise,  more  or  less. 

He  said :  "  I  came  to  paper  this  library  be- 
cause Mr.  Carr  was  in  a  hurry,  and  I  was  the 
only  man  in  the  shop.  I  didn't  want  to  come. 
But  they  made  me.  ...  I  think  they're 
rather  afraid  of  Mr.  Carr  in  the  shop.  .  .  . 
And  this  work  must  be  finished  to-day." 

She  did  not  know  what  to  say;  anything 
to  keep  him  away  from  the  table  until  she 
could  think  clearly. 

"  W-why  didn't  you  want  to  come  ?  "  she 
asked,  fighting  for  time.  "  You  said  you 
didn't  want  to  come,  didn't  you?" 

"  Because,"  he  said,  smiling,  "  I  don't  like 
to  hang  wall  paper." 

"  But  if  you  are  a  paper  hanger  by 
trade " 

"  I  suppose  you  think  me  a  real  paper 
hanger?" 


2oo  The  Green  Mouse 

She  was  cautiously  endeavoring  to  free  one 
edge  of  her  skirt ;  she  nodded  absently,  then 
subsided,  crimsoning,  as  a  faint  tearing  of 
cloth  sounded. 

"  Go  on,"  she  said  hurriedly ;  "  the  story 
of  your  career  is  so  interesting.  You  say  you 
adore  paper  hanging " 

"  No,  I  don't,"  he  returned,  chagrined. 
"  I  say  I  hate  it." 

"  Why  do  you  do  it,  then  ?  " 

"  Because  my  father  thinks  that  every  son 
of  his  who  finishes  college  ought  to  be  dis- 
ciplined by  learning  a  trade  before  he  enters 
a  profession.  My  oldest  brother,  De  Courcy, 
learned  to  be  a  blacksmith ;  my  next  brother, 
Algernon,  ran  a  bakery ;  and  since  I  left  Har- 
vard I've  been  slapping  sheets  of  paper  on 
people's  walls " 

"  Harvard  ?  "  she  repeated,  bewildered. 

"  Yes ;  I  was  1907." 

"  You! " 

He  looked  down  at  his  white  overalls, 
smiling. 

"  Does  that  astonish  you,  Miss  Carr  ? — you 
are  Miss  Carr,  I  suppose " 

"  Sybilla — yes — we're — we're  triplets,"  she 
stammered. 


The  Crown  Prince  201 

"  The  beauti— the— the  Carr  triplets !  And 
you  are  one  of  them  ? "  he  exclaimed,  de- 
lighted. 

"  Yes."  Still  bewildered,  she  sat  there, 
looking  at  him.  How  extraordinary!  How 
strange  to  find  a  Harvard  man  pasting  paper ! 
Dire  misgivings  flashed  up  within  her. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  she  asked  tremulously. 
"  Would  you  mind  telling  me  your  name. 
It — it  isn't — George!  " 

He  looked  up  in  pleased  surprise: 

"  So  you  know  who  I  am  ?  " 

"  N-no.     But — it  isn't  George — is  it  ?  " 

«  Why,  yes " 

"  O-h !  "  she  breathed.  A  sense  of  swim- 
ming faintness  enveloped  her:  she  swayed; 
but  an  unmistakable  ripping  noise  brought 
her  suddenly  to  herself. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  tearing  your  skirt 
somehow/'  he  said  anxiously.  "  Let  me " 

"No!" 

The  desperation  of  the  negative  ap- 
proached violence,  and  he  involuntarily 
stepped  back. 

For  a  moment  they  faced  one  another;  the 
flush  died  out  on  her  cheeks. 

"  If,"    she    said,    "  your    name    actually    is 


2O2  The  Green  Mouse 

George,  this — this  is  the  most — the  most  ter- 
rible punishment — "  She  closed  her  eyes  with 
her  fingers  as  though  to  shut  out  some  mon- 
strous vision. 

"  What,"  asked  the  amazed  young  man, 
"  has  my  name  to  do  with " 

Her  hands  dropped  from  her  eyes;  with 
horror  she  surveyed  him,  his  paste-spattered 
overalls,  his  dingy  white  cap,  his  dinner  pail. 

"  I — I  won't  marry  you !  "  she  stammered  in 
white  desperation.  "  I  won't!  If  you're  not 
a  paper  hanger  you  look  like  one !  I  don't 
care  whether  you're  a  Harvard  man  or  not — 
whether  you're  playing  at  paper  hanging  or 
not — whether  your  name  is  George  or  not — 
I  won't  marry  you — I  won't !  I  won't!  " 

With  the  feeling  that  his  senses  were  rapidly 
evaporating  the  young  man  sat  down  dizzily, 
and  passed  a  paste-spattered  but  well-shaped 
hand  across  his  eyes. 

Sybilla  set  her  lips  and  looked  at  him. 

"  I  don't  suppose,"  she  said,  "  that  you 
understand  what  I  am  talking  about,  but  I've 
got  to  tell  you  at  once ;  I  can't  stand  this  sort 
of  thing." 

"  W-what  sort  of  thing?  "  asked  the  young 
man,  feebly. 


The  Crown  Prince  203 

"  Your  being  here  in  this  house — with 
me " 

"  I'll  be  very  glad  to  go " 

"  Wait !  That  won't  do  any  good !  You'll 
come  back ! " 

"  N-no,  I  won't " 

"Yes,  you  will.  Or  I— I'll  f-follow 
you " 

"What?" 

"  One  or  the  other !  We  can't  help  it,  I  tell 
you.  You  don't  understand,  but  I  do.  And 
the  moment  I  knew  your  name  was 
George " 

"  What  the  deuce  has  that  got  to  do  with 
anything?  "  he  demanded,  turning  red  in  spite 
of  his  amazement. 

"  Waves  !  "  she  said  passionately,  "  psychic 
waves  !  I — somehow — knew  that  he'd  be 
named  George " 

"  Who'd  be  named  George?  " 

"He!  The— man.  .  .  .  And  if  I  ever— if 
you  ever  expect  me  to — to  c-care  for  a  man 
all  over  overalls " 

"  But  I  don't— Good  Heavens !— I  don't 
expect  you  to  care  for — for  overalls " 

"  Then  why  do  you  wear  them  ?  "  she  asked 
in  tremulous  indignation. 


2O4  The  Green  Mouse 

The  young  man,  galvanized,  sprang  from 
his  chair  and  began  running  about,  taking 
little,  short,  distracted  steps. 

"  Either/'  he  said,  "  I  need  mental  treat- 
ment immediately,  or  I'll  wake  up  toward 
morning.  .  .  .  I — don't  know  what  you're  try- 
ing to  say  to  me.  I  came  here  to — to 
p-paste " 

"  That  machine  sent  you  !  "  she  said.  "  The 
minute  I  got  a  spark  you  started " 

"  Do  you  think  I'm  a  motor?  Spark!  Do 
you  think  I " 

"  Yes,  I  do.  You  couldn't  help  it ;  I  know 
it  was  my  own  fault,  and  this — this  is  the 
dreadful  punishment — g-glued  to  a  t-table  top 
— with  a  man  named  George " 

"  What !  !  !  " 

"  Yes,"  she  said  passionately,  "  everything 
disobedient  I  have  done  has  brought  light- 
ning retribution.  I  was  forbidden  to  go  into 
the  laboratory;  I  disobeyed  and — you  came 
to  hang  wall  paper !  I — I  took  a  b-book — 
which  I  had  no  business  to  take,  and 
F-fate  glues  me  to  your  horrid  table  and 
holds  me  fast  till  a  man  named  George  comes 
in " 

Flushed,   trembling,   excited,    she   made   a 


The  Crown  Prince  205 

quick  and  dramatic  gesture  of  despair;  and 
a  ripping  sound  rent  the  silence. 

"Are  you  pasted  to  that  table?  "  faltered  the 
young  man,  aghast. 

"  Yes,  I  am.  And  it's  utterly  impossible  for 
you  to  aid  me  in  the  slightest,  except  by  pre- 
tending to  ignore  it." 

"  But  you — you  can't  remain  there !  " 

"  I  can't  help  remaining  here,"  she  said 
hotly,  "  until  you  go." 

"  Then  I'd  better " 

"  No  !  You  shall  not  go !  I — I  won't  have 
you  go  away — disappear  somewhere  in  the 
city.  Certainty  is  dreadful  enough,  but  it's 
better  than  the  awful  suspense  of  knowing 
you  are  somewhere  in  the  world,  and  are  sure 
to  come  back  sometime " 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  come  back !  "  he  ex- 
claimed indignantly.  "  Why  should  I  wish 
to  come  back?  Have  I  said — acted — done 
— looked —  Why  should  you  imagine  that  I 
have  the  slightest  interest  in  anything  or  in 
— in — anybody  in  this  house  ?  " 

"Haven't  you?" 

"  No !  .  .  .  And  I  cannot  ignore  your — 
your  amazing — and  intensely  f-flattering  fear 
that  I  have  d-designs — that  I  desire— in  other 


206  The  Green  Mouse 

words,  that  I — er — have  dared  to  cherish  im- 
possible aspirations  in  connection  with  a  futile 
and  absurd  hope  that  one  day  you  might  pos- 
sibly be  induced  to  listen  to  any  tentative  sug- 
gestion of  mine  concerning  a  matrimonial 
alliance " 

He  choked  and  turned  a  dull  red. 

She  reddened,  too,  but  said  calmly: 

"  Thank  you  for  putting  it  so  nicely.  But 
it  is  no  use.  Sooner  or  later  you  and  I  will 
be  obliged  to  consider  a  situation  too  hopeless 
to  admit  of  discussion." 

"What  situation?" 

"  Ours." 

"  I  can't  see  any  situation — except  your  be- 
ing glued — I  beg  your  pardon! — but  I  must 
speak  truthfully." 

"  So  must  I.  Our  case  is  too  desperate  for 
anything  but  plain  and  terrible  truths.  And 
the  truths  are  these :  /  touched  the  forbidden 
machine  and  got  a  spark ;  your  name  is 
George;  I'm  glued  here,  unable  to  escape; 
you  are  not  rude  enough  to  go  when  I  ask 
you  not  to.  ...  And  now — here — in  this 
room,  you  and  I  must  face  these  facts  and 
make  up  our  minds.  .  .  .  For  I  simply  must 
know  what  I  am  to  expect ;  I  can't  endure — 


The  Crown  Prince  207 

I  couldn't  live  with  this  hanging  over 
me " 

"  What  hanging  over  you  ?  " 

He  sprang  to  his  feet,  waving  his  dinner 
pail  around  in  frantic  circles : 

"  What  is  it,  in  Heaven's  name,  that  is 
hanging  over  you  ?  " 

"  Over  you,  too  !  " 

"Over  me?" 

"  Certainly.  Over  us  both.  We  are  headed 
straight  for  m-marriage." 

"  T-to  each  other?  " 

"  Of  course,"  she  said  faintly.  "  Do  you 
think  I'd  care  whom  you  are  going  to  marry 
if  it  wasn't  I  ?  Do  you  think  I'd  discuss  my 
own  marital  intentions  with  you  if  you  did 
not  happen  to  be  vitally  concerned  ?  " 

"  Do  you  expect  to  marry  me?  "  he  gasped. 

"  I — I  don't  want  to :  but  I've  got  to." 

He  stood  petrified  for  an  instant,  then  with 
a  wild  look  began  to  gather  up  his  tools. 

She  watched  him  with  the  sickening  cer- 
tainty that  if  he  got  away  she  could  never 
survive  the  years  of  suspense  until  his  inevi- 
table return.  A  mad  longing  to  get  the  worst 
over  seized  her.  She  knew  the  worst,  knew 
what  Fate  held  for  her.  And  she  desired  to 


208  The  Green  Mouse 

get  it  over — have  the  worst  happen — and  be 
left  to  live  out  the  shattered  remains  of  her 
life  in  solitude  and  peace. 

"  If — if  we've  got  to  marry,"  she  began  un- 
steadily, "  why  not  g-get  it  over  quickly — and 
then  I  don't  mind  if  you  go  away." 

She  was  quite  mad :  that  was  certain.  He 
hastily  flung  some  brushes  into  his  tool  kit, 
then  straightened  up  and  gazed  at  her  with 
deep  compassion. 

"  Would  you  mind,"  she  asked  timidly, 
"  getting  somebody  to  come  in  and  marry  us, 
and  then  the  worst  will  be  over,  you  see, 
and  we  need  never,  never  see  each  other 
again." 

He  muttered  something  soothing  and  be- 
gan tying  up  some  rolls  of  wall  paper. 

"Won't  you  do  what  I  ask?"  she  said 
pitifully.  "  I — I  am  almost  afraid  that — if 
you  go  away  without  marrying  me  I  could 
not  live  and  endure  the — the  certainty  of  your 
return." 

He  raised  his  head  and  surveyed  her  with 
deepest  pity.  Mad — quite  mad!  And  so 
young — so  exquisite  ...  so  perfectly  charm- 
ing in  body  !  And  the  mind  darkened  forever. 
.  .  .  How  terrible !  How  strange,  too ;  for 


The  Crown  Prince  209 

in  the  pure-lidded  eyes  he  seemed  to  see  the 
soft  light  of  reason  not  entirely  quenched. 

Their  eyes  encountered,  lingered ;  and  the 
beauty  of  her  gaze  seemed  to  stir  him  to  the 
very  wellspring  of  compassion. 

"  Would  it  make  you  any  happier  to  be- 
lieve— to  know,"  he  added  hastily,  "  that  you 
and  I  were  married  ?  " 

"  Y-yes,  I  think  so." 

"  Would  you  be  quite  happy  to  believe  it  ?  " 

"  Yes — if  you  call  that  happiness." 

"  And  you  would  not  be  unhappy  if  I  never 
returned  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  no !  I — that  would  make  me — 
comparatively — happy !  " 

"  To  be  married  to  me,  and  to  know  you 
would  never  again  see  me  ?  " 

"Yes.    Will  you?" 

•"  Yes,"  he  said  soothingly.  And  yet  a  curi- 
ous little  throb  of  pain  flickered  in  his  heart 
for  a  moment,  that,  mad  as  she  undoubtedly 
was,  she  should  be  so  happy  to  be  rid  of  him 
forever. 

He  came  slowly  across  the  room  to  the 
table  on  which  she  was  sitting.  She  drew 
back  instinctively,  but  an  ominous  ripping 
held  her. 


2io  The  Green  Mouse 

"  Are  you  going  for  a  license  and  a — a 
clergyman  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  no,"  he  said  gently,  "  that  is  not  nec- 
essary. All  we  have  to  do  is  to  take  each 
other's  hands — so " 

She  shrank  back. 

"  You  will  have  to  let  me  take  your  hand," 
he  explained. 

She  hesitated,  looked  at  him  fearfully, 
then,  crimson,  laid  her  slim  fingers  in  his. 

The  contact  sent  a  quiver  straight  through 
him ;  he  squared  his  shoulders  and  looked  at 
her.  .  .  .  Very,  very  far  away  it  seemed  as 
though  he  heard  his  heart  awaking  heavily. 

What  an  uncanny  situation!  Strange — 
strange — his  standing  here  to  humor  the  mad 
whim  of  this  stricken  maid — this  wonderfully 
sweet  young  stranger,  looking  out  of  eyes  so 
lovely  that  he  almost  believed  the  dead  in- 
telligence behind  them  was  quickening  into 
life  again. 

"  What  must  we  do  to  be  married  ? "  she 
whispered. 

"  Say  so ;  that  is  all,"  he  answered  gently. 
"  Do  you  take  me  for  your  husband?  " 

"  Yes.  .  .  .  Do  you  t-take  me  for  your — 
wife?" 


The  Crown  Prince  211 

«  Yes,  dear " 

"Don't  say  that!  ...  Is  it— over?" 

"  All  over,"  he  said,  forcing  a  gayety  that 
rang  hollow  in  the  pathos  of  the  mockery  and 
farce.  .  .  .  But  he  smiled  to  be  kind  to  her; 
and,  to  make  the  poor,  clouded  mind  a  little 
happier  still,  he  took  her  hand  again  and  said 
very  gently: 

"  Will  it  surprise  you  to  know  that  you 
are  now  a  princess  ?  " 

"  A — what?  "  she  asked  sharply. 

"  A  princess."  He  smiled  benignly  on  her, 
and,  still  beaming,  struck  a  not  ungraceful 
attitude. 

"  I,"  he  said,  "  am  the  Crown  Prince  of 
Rumtifoo." 

She  stared  at  him  without  a  word;  gradu- 
ally he  lost  countenance;  a  vague  misgiving 
stirred  within  him  that  he  had  rather  over- 
done the  thing. 

"  Of  course,"  he  began  cheerfully,  "  I  am 
an  exile  in  disguise — er — disinherited  and  all 
that,  you  know." 

She  continued  to  stare  at  him. 

"  Matters  of  state — er — revolution — and 
that  sort  of  thing,"  he  mumbled,  eying 
her;  "but  I  thought  it  might  gratify  you 
15 


212  The  Green  Mouse 

to  know  that  I  am  Prince  George  of  Rum- 
tifoo " 

"  What! " 

The  silence  was  deadly. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said  deliberately, 
"that  I  believe  you  think  I  am  mentally 
unsound.  Do  you  ?  " 

"  I — you — "  he  began  to  stutter  fear- 
fully. 

"  Do  you?" 

"  W-well,  either  you  or  I " 

"  Nonsense !  I  thought  that  marriage  cere- 
mony was  a  miserably  inadequate  affair !  .  .  . 
And  I  am  hurt — grieved — amazed  that  you 
should  do  such  a — a  cowardly " 

"  What !  "  he  exclaimed,  stung  to  the  quick. 

"  Yes,  it  is  cowardly  to  deceive  a  woman." 

"  I  meant  it  kindly — supposing " 

"  That  I  am  mentally  unsound  ?  Why  do 
you  suppose  that  ?  " 

"  Because — Good  Heavens — because  in  this 
century,  and  in  this  city,  people  who  never 
before  saw  one  another  don't  begin  to  talk  of 
marrying " 

"  I  explained  to  you  " — she  was  half  crying 
now,  and  her  voice  broke  deliciously — "  I 
told  you  what  I'd  done,  didn't  I  ?  " 


The  Crown  Prince  213 

"  You  said  you  had  got  a  spark,"  he  ad- 
mitted, utterly  bewildered  by  her  tears. 
"  Don't  cry — please  don't.  Something  is  all 
wrong  here — there  is  some  terrible  misun- 
derstanding. If  you  will  only  explain  it  to 
me " 

She  dried  her  eyes  mechanically:  "Come 
here,"  she  said.  "  I  don't  believe  I  did  ex- 
plain it  clearly." 

And,  very  carefully,  very  minutely,  she  be- 
gan to  tell  him  about  the  psychic  waves,  and 
the  instrument,  and  the  new  company  formed 
to  exploit  it  on  a  commercial  basis. 

She  told  him  what  had  happened  that 
morning  to  her;  how  her  disobedience  had 
cost  her  so  much  misery.  She  informed  him 
about  her  father,  and  that  florid  and  rotund 
gentleman's  choleric  character. 

"  If  you  are  here  when  I  tell  him  I'm  mar- 
ried," she  said,  "  he  will  probably  frighten  you 
to  death ;  and  that's  one  of  the  reasons  why  I 
wish  to  get  it  over  and  get  you  safely  away 
before  he  returns.  As  for  me,  now  that  I 
know  the  worst,  I  want  to  get  the  worst  over 
and — and  live  out  my  life  quietly  somewhere. 
...  So  now  you  see  why  I  am  in  such  a 
hurry,  don't  you  ?  " 


214  The  Green  Mouse 

He  nodded  as  though  stunned,  lean- 
ing there  on  the  table,  hands  folded,  head 
bent. 

"  I  am  so  very  sorry — for  you,"  she  said. 
"  I  know  how  you  must  feel  about  it.  But  if 
we  are  obliged  to  marry  some  time  had  we 
not  better  get  it  over  and  then — never — see 
— one  another " 

He  lifted  his  head,  then  stood  upright. 

Her  soft  lips  were  mute,  but  the  question 
still  remained  in  her  eyes. 

So,  for  a  long  while,  they  looked  at  each 
other;  and  the  color  under  his  cheekbones 
deepened,  and  the  pink  in  her  cheeks  slowly 
became  pinker. 

"  Suppose,"  he  said,  under  his  breath, 
"  that  I — wish — to  return — to  you  ?  " 

"  /  do  not  wish  it " 

"  Try." 

"  Try  to — to  wish  for " 

"  For  my  return.  Try  to  wish  that  you  also 
desire  it.  Will  you  ?  " 

"  If  you  are  going  to — to  talk  that  way — " 
she  stammered. 

"  Yes,  I  am." 

«  Then— then " 

"  Is  there  any  reason  why  I  should  not,  if 


The  Crown  Prince  215 

we  are  engaged  ?  "  he  asked.    "  We  are — en- 
gaged, are  we  not  ?  " 

"Engaged?" 

"Yes.    Are  we?" 

«  I_yes— if  you  call  it " 

"  I  do.  .  .  .  And  we  are  to  be — married  ?  " 
He  could  scarcely  now  speak  the  word  which 
but  a  few  moments  since  he  pronounced  so 
easily ;  for  a  totally  new  significance  attached 
itself  to  every  word  he  uttered. 

"  Are  we  ?  "  he  repeated. 

"  Yes." 

"  Then— if  I— if  I  find  that  I " 

"  Don't  say  it,"  she  whispered.  She  had 
turned  quite  white. 

"  Will  you  listen " 

"  No.     It — it  isn't  true — it  cannot  be." 
.  "  It   is  coming  truer   every  moment.  .  .  . 
It  is  very,  very  true — even  now.  ...  It  is  al- 
most true.  .  .  .  And  now  it  has  come  true. 
Sybilla !  " 

White,  dismayed,  she  gazed  at  him,  her 
hands  instinctively  closing  her  ears.  But  she 
dropped  them  as  he  stepped  forward. 

"  I  love  you,  Sybilla.  I  wish  to  marry  you. 
.  .  .  Will  you  try  to  care  for  me — a  lit- 
tle  " 


216  The  Green  Mouse 

"  I  couldn't— I  can't  even  try " 

"  Dear " 

He  had  her  hands  now;  she  twisted  them 
free;  he  caught  them  again.  Over  their  in- 
terlocked hands  she  bowed  her  head,  breath- 
less, cheeks  aflame,  seeking  to  cover  her  eyes. 

"  Will  you  love  me,  Sybilla  ?  " 

She  struggled  silently,  desperately. 

11  Will  you?" 

"  No.  ...  Let  me  go " 

"  Don't  cry — please,  dear — "  His  head, 
bowed  beside  hers  over  their  clasped  hands, 
was  more  than  she  could  endure ;  but  her  up- 
flung  face,  seeking  escape,  encountered  his. 
There  was  a  deep,  indrawn  breath,  a  sob,  and 
she  lay,  crying  her  heart  out,  in  his  arms. 

"Darling!" 

"W-what?" 

It  is  curious  how  quickly  one  recognizes 
unfamiliar  forms  of  address. 

"  You  won't  cry  any  more,  will  yon  ?  "  he 
whispered. 

"  N-n-o,"  sighed  Sybilla. 

"  Because  we  do  love  each  other,  don't 
we?" 

"  Y-yes,  George." 


The  Crown  Prince  217 

Then,  radiant,  yet  sweetly  shamed,  confi- 
dent, yet  fearful,  she  lifted  her  adorable  head 
from  his  shoulder. 

"  George,"  she  said,  "  I  am  beginning  to 
think  that  I'd  like  to  get  off  this  table." 

"  You  poor  darling !  " 

"  And,"  she  continued,  "  if  you  will  go 
home  and  change  your  overalls  for  something 
more  conventional,  you  shall  come  and  dine 
with  us  this  evening,  and  I  will  be  waiting  for 
you  in  the  drawing-room.  .  .  .  And,  George, 
although  some  of  your  troubles  are  now 
over " 

"  All  of  them,  dearest ! "  he  cried  with  en- 
thusiasm. 

"  No,"  she  said  tenderly,  "  you  are  yet  to 
meet  Pa-pah." 


\ 


XIV 


GENTLEMEN   OF   THE   PRESS 

A  Chapter  Concerning  Drusilla,  Pa-pah  and  a 
Minion 

CAPITAL  had  now  been  furnished  for 
The  Green  Mouse,  Limited;  a  great 
central  station  of  white  marble  was 
being  built,  facing  Madison  Avenue  and  oc- 
cupying the  entire  block  front  between  Eighty- 
second  and  Eighty-third  streets. 

The  building  promised  to  be  magnificent; 

the   plans   provided   for   a   thousand   private 

operating  rooms,   each  beautifully   furnished 

in  Louis  XVI  style,  a  restaurant,  a  tea  room, 

218 


Gentlemen  of  the  Press        219 

a  marriage  licence  bureau,  and  an  emergency 
chapel  where  first  aid  clergymen  were  to  be 
always  in  attendance. 

In  each  of  the  thousand  Louis  XVI  oper- 
ating rooms  a  Destyn-Carr  wireless  instru- 
ment was  to  stand  upon  a  rococo  table.  A 
maid  to  every  two  rooms,  a  physician  to  every 
ten,  and  smelling  salts  to  each  room,  were 
provided  for  in  this  gigantic  enterprise. 

Millions  of  circulars  were  being  prepared 
to  send  broadcast  over  the  United  States. 
They  read  as  follows : 

ARE  YOU  IN  LOVE?  IF  NOT,  WHY  NOT? 

Wedlock  by  Wireless.  Marriage  by  Machinery. 
A  Wondrous  Wooer  Without  Words!  No  more 
doubt;  no  more  hesitation;  no  more  uncertainty. 
The  Destyn-Carr  Wireless  Apparatus  does  it  all  for 
you.  Happy  Marriage  Guaranteed  or  money  eagerly 
refunded! 

Psychical  Science  says  that  for  every  man  and 
woman  on  earth  there  is  a  predestined  mate ! 

That  mate  can  be  discovered  for  you  by  The  Green 
Mouse,  Limited. 

Why  waste  time  with  costly  courtship?  Why 
frivol?  Why  fuss? 

There  is  only  ONE  mate  created  for  YOU.  You 
pay  us;  We  find  that  ONE,  thereby  preventing 
mistakes,  lawsuits,  elopements,  regrets,  grouches, 
alimony. 


22O  The  Green  Mouse 

Divorce  Absolutely  Eliminated 

By  Our  Infallible  Wireless  Method 

Success  Certain 

It  is  now  known  the  world  over  that  Professor 
William  Augustus  Destyn  has  discovered  that  the 
earth  we  live  on  is  enveloped  in  Psychical  Currents. 
By  the  Destyn-Carr  instrument  these  currents  may 
be  tapped,  controlled  and  used  to  communicate  be- 
tween two  people  of  opposite  sex  whose  subconscious 
and  psychic  personalities  are  predestined  to  affinity 
and  amorous  accord.  In  other  words,  when  psychic 
waves  from  any  individual  are  collected  or  tele- 
graphed along  these  wireless  psychical  currents,  only 
that  one  affinity  attuned  to  receive  them  can  prop- 
erly respond. 

We  catch  your  psychic  waves  for  you.  We  send 
them  out  into  the  world. 

WATCH   THAT    SPARK! 

When  you  see  a  tiny  bluish-white  spark  tip  the 
tentacle  of  the  Destyn-Carr  transmitter, 

THE   WORLD    IS   YOURS! 

for  $25. 

Our  method  is  quick,  painless,  merciful  and 
certain.  Fee,  twenty-five  dollars  in  advance. 
Certified  checks  accepted. 

THE  GREEN  MOUSE,  Limited. 


President    .      .      .   PROF.  WM.  AUGUSTUS  DESTYN. 

{THE    HON.    KILLIAN    VAN    K. 
VANDERDYNK. 
THE  HON.  GEORGE  GRAY,  30. 
Treasurer    .  .   THE  HON.  BUSHWYCK  CARR. 


Gentlemen  of  the  Press        221 

These  circulars  were  composed,  illuminated 
and  printed  upon  vellum  by  what  was  known 
as  an  "  Art  "  community  in  West  Borealis, 
N.  J.  Several  tons  were  expected  for  delivery 
early  in  June. 

Meanwhile,  the  Carr  family  and  its  affilia- 
tions had  invested  every  cent  they  possessed 
in  Green  Mouse,  Limited;  and  those  who 
controlled  the  stock  were  Bushwyck  Carr; 
William  Augustus  Destyn  and  Mrs.  Destyn, 
nee  Ethelinda  Carr ;  Mr.  Killian  Van  K.  Van- 
derdynk  and  Mrs.  Vanderdynk,  nee  Sacha- 
rissa  Carr ;  George  Gray  and  Mrs.  Gray,  very 
lately  Sybilla  Carr;  and  the  unmarried  trip- 
lets, Flavilla  and  Drusilla  Carr. 

Remembering  with  a  shudder  how  Bell 
Telephone  and  Standard  Oil  might  once  have 
been  bought  for  a  song,  Bushwyck  Carr  de- 
termined that  in  this  case  his  pudgy  fingers 
should  not  miss  the  forelock  of  Time  and  the 
divided  skirts  of  Chance. 

Squinting  at  the  viewless  ether  through  his 
monocle  he  beheld  millions  in  it ;  so  did  Will- 
iam Augustus  Destyn  and  the  other  sons- 
in-law. 

Only  the  unmarried  triplets,  Flavilla  and 
Drusilla,  remained  amiably  indifferent  in  the 


222  The  Green  Mouse 

midst  of  all  these  family  financial  scurryings 
and  preparations  to  secure  world  patents  in 
a  monopoly  which  promised  the  social  regen- 
eration of  the  globe. 

The  considerable  independent  fortunes  that 
their  mother  had  left  them  they  invested  in 
Green  Mouse,  at  their  father's  suggestion ; 
but  further  than  that  they  took  no  part  in  the 
affair. 

For  a  while  the  hurry  and  bustle  and  secret 
family  conferences  mildly  interested  them. 
Very  soon,  however,  the  talk  of  psychic  waves 
and  millions  bored  them;  and  as  soon  as  the 
villa  at  Oyster  Bay  was  opened  they  were 
glad  enough  to  go. 

Here,  at  Oyster  Bay,  there  was  some  chance 
of  escaping  their  money-mad  and  wave-in- 
toxicated family ;  they  could  entertain  and  be 
entertained  by  both  of  the  younger  sets  in 
that  dignified  summer  resort;  they  could 
wander  about  their  own  vast  estate  alone ; 
they  could  play  tennis,  sail,  swim,  ride,  and 
drive  their  tandem. 

But  best  of  all — for  they  were  rather  seri- 
ously inclined  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  or, 
rather,  on  the  verge  of  nineteen — they  adored 
sketching,  in  water  colors,  out  of  doors. 


Gentlemen  of  the  Press        223 

Scrubby  forelands  set  with  cedars,  shadow- 
flecked  paths  under  the  scrub  oak,  meadows 
where  water  glimmered,  white  sails  off  Center 
Island  and  Cooper's  Bluff — Cooper's  Bluff 
from  the  north,  northeast,  east,  southeast, 
south — this  they  painted  with  never-tiring, 
Pecksniffian  patience,  boxing  the  compass 
around  it  as  enthusiastically  as  that  immortal 
architect  circumnavigated  Salisbury  Cathe- 
dral. 

And  one  delicious  morning  in  early  June> 
when  the  dew  sparkled  on  the  poison  ivy  and 
the  air  was  vibrant  with  the  soft  monotone 
of  mosquitoes  and  the  public  road  exhaled  a 
delicate  aroma  of  crude  oil,  Drusilla  and 
Flavilla,  laden  with  sketching-blocks,  color- 
boxes,  camp-stools,  white  umbrellas  and  bon- 
bons, descended  to  the  great  hall,  on  sketch- 
ing bent. 

Mr.  Carr  also  stood  there,  just  outside  on 
the  porch,  red,  explosive,  determined  legs 
planted  wide  apart,  defying  several  courtly 
reporters,  who  for  a  month  had  patiently  and 
politely  appeared  every  hour  to  learn  whether 
Mr.  Carr  had  anything  to  say  about  the  new 
invention,  rumors  of  which  were  flying  thick 
about  Park  Row. 


224  The  Green  Mouse 

11  No,  I  haven't !  "  he  shouted  in  his  mellow 
and  sonorously  musical  bellow.  "  I  have  told 
you  one  hundred  times  that  when  I  have  any- 
thing to  say  I'll  send  for  you.  Now,  permit 
me  to  inform  you,  for  the  hundred  and  first 
consecutive  time,  that  I  have  nothing  to  say 
— which  won't  prevent  you  from  coming  back 
in  an  hour  and  standing  in  exactly  the  same 
ridiculous  position  you  now  occupy,  and  ask- 
ing me  exactly  the  same  unmannerly  ques- 
tions, and  taking  the  same  impertinent  snap- 
shots at  my  house  and  my  person !  " 

He  executed  a  ferocious  facial  contortion, 
clapped  the  monocle  into  his  left  eye,  and 
squinted  fiercely. 

"  I'm  getting  tired  of  this !  "  he  continued. 
"  When  I  wake  in  the  morning  and  look  out 
of  my  window  there  are  always  anywhere 
from  one  to  twenty  reporters  decorating  my 
lawn !  That  young  man  over  there  is  the 
worst  and  most  persistent  offender !  " — scowl- 
ing at  a  good-looking  youth  in  white  flan- 
nels, who  immediately  blushed  distressingly. 
(<  Yes,  you  are,  young  man !  I'm  amazed  that 
you  have  the  decency  to  blush!  Your  inso- 
lent sheet,  the  Evening  Star,  refers  to  my 
Trust  Company  as  a  Green  Mouse  Trap  and 


Gentlemen  of  the  Press        225 

a  Mouscleum.  It  also  publishes  preposterous 
pictures  of  myself  and  family.  Dammit,  sir, 
they  even  produce  a  photograph  of  Orlando, 
the  family  cat !  You  did  it,  I  am  told.  Did 
you  ?  " 

"  I  am  trying  to  do  what  I  can  for  my 
paper,  Mr.  Carr,"  said  the  young  man.  "  The 
public  is  interested." 

Mr.  Carr  regarded  him  with  peculiar  hatred. 

"  Come  here,"  he  said ;  "  I  have  got  some- 
thing to  say  to  you." 

The  young  man  cautiously  left  the  ranks 
of  his  fellows  and  came  up  on  the  porch. 
Behind  Mr.  Carr,  in  the  doorway,  stood  Dru- 
silla  and  Flavilla.  The  young  man  tried  not 
to  see  them;  he  pretended  not  to.  But  he 
flushed  deeply. 

"  I  want  to  know,"  demanded  Mr.  Carr, 
"  why  the  devil  you  are  always  around  here 
blushing.  You've  been  around  here  blushing 
for  a  month,  and  I  want  to  know  why  you 
do  it." 

The  youth  stood  speechless,  features  afire 
to  the  tips  of  his  glowing  ears. 

"  At  first,"  continued  Mr.  Carr,  mercilessly, 
"  I  had  a  vague  hope  that  you  might  perhaps 
be  blushing  for  shame  at  your  profession;  I 


226  The  Green  Mouse 

heard  that  you  were  young  at  it,  and  I  was 
inclined  to  be  sorry  for  you.  But  I'm  not 
sorry  any  more  !  " 

The  young  man  remained  crimson  and 
dumb. 

"  Confound  it,"  resumed  Mr.  Carr,  "  I  want 
to  know  why  the  deuce  you  come  and  blush 
all  over  my  lawn.  I  won't  stand  it !  I'll  not 

allow    anybody    to    come    blushing    around 

j> 
me 

Indignation  choked  him;  he  turned  on  his 
heel  to  enter  the  house  and  beheld  Flavilla 
and  Drusilla  regarding  him,  wide-eyed. 

He  went  in,  waving  them  away  before  him. 

"  I've  taught  that  young  pup  a  lesson,"  he 
said  with  savage  satisfaction.  "  I'll  teach 
him  to  blush  at  me!  I'll " 

"  But  why,"  asked  Drusilla,  "  are  you  so 
cruel  to  Mr.  Yates  ?  We  like  him." 

"  Mr. — Mr.  Yates!  "  repeated  her  father, 
astonished.  "  Is  that  his  name  ?  And  who 
told  you?  " 

"  He  did,"  said  Drusilla,  innocently. 

"  He — that  infernal  newspaper  ban- 
tam  " 

"  Pa-pah!  Please  don't  say  that  about  Mr. 
Yates.  He  is  really  exceedingly  kind  and 


Gentlemen  of  the  Press        227 

civil  to  us.  Every  time  you  go  to  town  on 
business  he  comes  and  sketches  with  us 
at " 

"  Oh,"  said  Mr.  Carr,  with  the  calm  of 
deadly  fury,  "  so  he  goes  to  Cooper's  Bluff 
with  you  when  I'm  away,  does  he?  " 

Flavilla  said :  "  He  doesn't  exactly  go  with 
us ;  but  he  usually  comes  there  to  sketch.  He 
makes  sketches  for  his  newspaper." 

"  Does  he  ?  "  asked  her  father,  grinding  his 
teeth. 

"  Yes,"  said  Drusilla ;  "  and  he  sketches  so 
beautifully.  He  made  such  perfectly  charm- 
ing drawings  of  Flavilla  and  of  me,  and  he 
drew  pictures  of  the  house  and  gardens,  and 
of  all  the  servants,  and  " — she  laughed — "  I 
once  caught  a  glimpse  in  his  sketch-book  of 
the  funniest  caricature  of  you " 

The  expression  on  her  father's  face  was  so 
misleading  in  its  terrible  calm  that  she 
laughed  again,  innocently. 

"  It  was  not  at  all  an  offensive  caricature, 
you  know — really  it  was  not  a  caricature  at 
all — it  was  you — just  the  way  you  stand  and 
look  at  people  when  you  are — slightly — an- 
noyed  " 

"  Oh,  he  is  so  clever,"  chimed  in  Flavilla, 
16 


228  The  Green  Mouse 

"  and  is  so  perfectly  well-bred  and  so  de- 
lightful to  us — to  Drusilla  particularly.  He 
wrote  the  prettiest  set  of  verses — To  Drusilla 
in  June — just  dashed  them  off  while  he  was 
watching  her  sketch  Cooper's  Bluff  from  the 
southwest " 

"  He  is  really  quite  wonderful,"  added 
Drusilla,  sincerely,  "  and  so  generous  and 
helpful  when  my  drawing  becomes  weak  and 
wobbly " 

"  Mr.  Yates  shows  Drusilla  how  to  hold 
her  pencil,"  said  Flavilla,  becoming  warmly 
earnest  in  her  appreciation  of  this  self-sacri- 
ficing young  man.  "  He  often  lays  aside  his 
own  sketching  and  guides  Drusilla's  hand 
while  she  holds  the  pencil " 

"  And  when  I'm  tired,"  said  Drusilla,  "  and 
the  water  colors  get  into  a  dreadful  mess,  Mr. 
Yates  will  drop  his  own  work  and  come  and 
talk  to  me  about  art — and  other  things ' 

"  He  is  so  kind !  "  cried  Flavilla  in  generous 
enthusiasm. 

"  And  so  vitally  interesting,"  said  Drusilla. 

"  And  so  talented  !  "  echoed  Flavilla. 

"  And  so — "  Drusilla  glanced  up,  beheld 
something  in  the  fixed  stare  of  her  parent  that 
frightened  her,  and  rose  in  confusion. 


Gentlemen  of  the  Press        229 

"Have  I  said — done — anything?"  she  fal- 
tered. 

With  an  awful  spasm  Mr.  Carr  jerked  his 
congested  features  into  the  ghastly  semblance 
of  a  smile. 

"  Not  at  all,"  he  managed  to  say.  "  This 
is  very  interesting — what  you  tell  me  about 
this  p-pu — this  talented  young  man.  Does 
he — does  he  seem — attracted  toward  you — 
unusually  attracted  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Drusilla,  smiling  reminiscently. 

"  How  do  you  know?  " 

"  Because  he  once  said  so." 

"S-said— w-what?" 

"  Why,  he  said  quite  frankly  that  he 
thought  me  the  most  delightful  girl  he  had 
ever  met." 

"  What — else  ? "  Mr.  Carr's  voice  was 
scarcely  audible. 

"  Nothing,"  said  Drusilla ;  "  except  that  he 
said  he  cared  for  me  very  much  and  wished 
to  know  whether  I  ever  could  care  very  much 
for  him.  ...  I  told  him  I  thought  I  could. 
Flavilla  told  him  so,  too.  .  .  .  And  we  all  felt 
rather  happy,  I  think ;  at  least  I  did." 

Her  parent  emitted  a  low,  melodious  sort 
of  sound,  a  kind  of  mellifluous  howl. 


230  The  Green  Mouse 

11  Pa-pah ! "  they  exclaimed  in  gentle  con- 
sternation. 

He  beat  at  the  empty  air  for  a  moment  like 
a  rotund  fowl  about  to  seek  its  roost.  Sud- 
denly he  ran  distractedly  at  an  armchair  and 
kicked  it. 

They  watched  him  in  sorrowful  amazement. 

"  If  we  are  going  to  sketch  Cooper's  Bluff 
this  morning,"  observed  Drusilla  to  Flavilla, 
"  I  think  we  had  better  go — quietly — by  way 
of  the  kitchen  garden.  Evidently  Pa-pah 
does  not  care  for  Mr.  Yates." 
<•  Orlando,  the  family  cat,  strolled  in,  con- 
ciliatory tail  hoisted.  Mr.  Carr  hurled  a 
cushion  at  Orlando,  then  beat  madly  upon 
his  own  head  with  both  hands.  Servants  re- 
spectfully gave  him  room  ;  some  furniture  was 
overturned — -a  chair  or  two — as  he  bounced 
upward  and  locked  and  bolted  himself  in  his 
room. 

What  transports  of  fury  he  lived  through 
there  nobody  else  can  know;  what  terrible 
visions  of  vengeance  lit  up  his  outraged  in- 
tellect, what  cold  intervals  of  quivering  hate, 
what  stealthy  schemes  of  reprisal,  what  awful 
retribution  for  young  Mr.  Yates  were  hatched 
in  those  dreadful  moments,  he  alone  could 


Gentlemen  of  the  Press       231 

tell.  And  as  he  never  did  tell,  how  can  I 
know? 

However,  in  about  half  an  hour  his  expres- 
sion of  stony  malignity  changed  to  a  smile  so 
cunningly  devilish  that,  as  he  caught  sight  of 
himself  in  the  mirror,  his  corrugated  counte- 
nance really  startled  him. 

"  I  must  smooth  out — smooth  out !  "  he 
muttered.  "  Smoothness  does  it !  "  And  he 
rang  for  a  servant  and  bade  him  seek  out  a 
certain  Mr.  Yates  among  the  throng  of  young 
men  who  had  been  taking  snapshots. 


DRUSILLA 

During  Which  Chapter  Mr.  Carr  Sings  and 

One  of  His  Daughters  Takes  her  Post- 

Graduate 

MR.  YATES  came  presently,  ushered 
by    Ferdinand,    and    looking    ex- 
tremely   worried.      Mr.    Carr    re- 
ceived him  in  his  private  office  with  ominous 
urbanity. 

"  Mr.  Yates,"  he  said,  forcing  a  distorted 
smile,  "  I  have  rather  abruptly  decided  to 
show  you  exactly  how  one  of  the  Destyn-Carr 
instruments  is  supposed  to  work.  Would 
you  kindly  stand  here— close  by  this  table  ?  " 
232 


Drusilla  233 


Mr.  Yates,  astounded,  obeyed. 

"  Now/'  said  Mr.  Carr,  with  a  deeply 
creased  smile,  "  here  is  the  famous  Destyn- 
Carr  apparatus.  That's  quite  right — take  a 
snapshot  at  it  without  my  permission " 

"  I— I  thought " 

"  Quite  right,  my  boy ;  I  intend  you  shall 
know  all  about  it.  You  see  it  resembles  the 
works  of  a  watch.  .  .  .  Now,  when  I  touch 
this  spring  the  receiver  opens  and  gathers  in 
certain  psychic  waves  which  emanate  from 
the  subconscious  personality  of — well,  let  us 
say  you,  for  example !  .  .  .  And  now  I  touch 
this  button.  You  see  that  slender  hairspring 
of  Rosium  uncurl  and  rise,  trembling  and 
waving  about  like  a  tentacle  ?  " 

Young  Yates,  notebook  in  hand,  recovered 
himself  sufficiently  to  nod.  Mr.  Carr  leered 
at  him: 

"  That  tentacle,"  he  explained,  "  is  now 
seeking  some  invisible,  wireless,  psychic  cur- 
rent along  which  it  is  to  transmit  the  accu- 
mulated psychic  waves.  As  soon  as  the  wire- 
less current  finds  the  subconscious  personality 
of  the  woman  you  are  destined  to  love  and 
marry  some  day " 

"  I  ?  "  exclaimed  young  Yates,  horrified. 


234  The  Green  Mouse 

"  Yes,  you.  Why  not  ?  Do  you  mind  my 
trying  it  on  you  ?  " 

"  But  I  am  already  in  love,"  protested  the 
young  man,  turning,  as  usual,  a  ready  red. 
"  I  don't  care  to  have  you  try  it  on  me.  Sup- 
pose that  machine  should  connect  me  with 
— some  other — girl " 

"It  has!"  cried  Carr  with  a  hideous  laugh 
as  a  point  of  bluish-white  fire  tipped  the  ten- 
tacle for  an  instant.  "  You're  tied  fast  to 
something  feminine !  Probably  a  flossy  type- 
writer—  or  a  burlesque  actress  —  somebody 
you're  fitted  for,  anyway !  "  He  clapped  on 
his  monocle,  and  glared  gleefully  at  the  stupe- 
fied young  man. 

"  That  will  teach  you  to  enter  my  prem- 
ises and  hold  my  daughter's  hand  when  she 
is  drawing  innocent  pictures  of  Cooper's 
Bluff !  "  he  shouted.  "  That  will  teach  you  to 
write  poems  to  my  eighteen-year-old  daugh- 
ter, Drusilla ;  that  will  teach  you  to  tell  her  you 
are  in  love  with  her — you  young  pup !  " 

"  I  am  in  love  with  her ! "  said  Yates,  un- 
daunted ;  but  he  was  very  white  when  he  said 
it.  "  I  do  love  her ;  and  if  you  had  behaved 
halfway  decently  I'd  have  told  you  so  two 
weeks  ago ! " 


Drusilla  235 


Mr.  Carr  turned  a  delicate  purple,  then, 
recovering,  laughed  horribly. 

"  Whether  or  not  you  were  once  in  love 
with  my  daughter  is  of  no  consequence  now. 
That  machine  has  nullified  your  nonsense ! 
That  instrument  has  found  you  your  proper 
affinity — doubtless  below  stairs " 

"  I  am  still  in  love  with  Drusilla,"  repeated 
Yates,  firmly. 

"  I  tell  you,  you're  not ! "  retorted  Carr. 
"  Didn't  I  turn  that  machine  on  you  ?  It  has 
never  missed  yet !  The  Green  Mouse  has  got 
you  in  the  Mouseleum !  " 

"  You  are  mistaken/'  insisted  Yates,  still 
more  firmly.  "  I  was  in  love  with  your 
daughter  Drusilla  before  you  started  the  ma- 
chine; and  I  love  her  yet!  Now!  At  the 
present  time !  This  very  instant  I  am  loving 
her !  " 

"  You  can't !  "  shouted  Carr. 

"  Yes,  I  can.    And  I  do  !  " 

"  No,  you  don't !  I  tell  you  it's  a  scientific 
and  psychical  impossibility  for  you  to  con- 
tinue to  love  her!  Your  subconscious  per- 
sonality is  now  in  eternal  and  irrevocable 
accord  and  communication  with  the  subcon- 
scious personality  of  some  chit  of  a  girl  who 


236  The  Green  Mouse 

is  destined  to  love  and  marry  you !  And  she's 
probably  a  ballet-girl,  at  that !  " 

"  I  shall  marry  Drusilla ! "  retorted  the 
young  man,  very  pale ;  "  because  I  am  quite 
confident  that  she  loves  me,  though  very 
probably  she  doesn't  know  it  yet." 

"You  talk  foolishness!"  hissed  Carr. 
"  This  machine  has  settled  the  whole  matter  I 
Didn't  you  see  that  spark  ?  " 

"  I  saw  a  spark — yes  I  " 

"  And  do  you  mean  to  tell  me  you  are  not 
beginning  to  feel  queer  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  slightest." 

"  Look  me  squarely  in  the  eye,  young  man, 
and  tell  me  whether  you  do  not  have  a  sen- 
sation as  though  your  heart  were  cutting 
capers?" 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  said  Yates,  calmly. 
"  If  that  machine  worked  at  all  it  wouldn't 
surprise  me  if  you  yourself  had  become  en- 
tangled in  it — caught  in  your  own  machine !  " 

"  W-what !  "   exclaimed   Carr,    faintly. 

"  It  wouldn't  astonish  me  in  the  slightest," 
repeated  Yates,  delighted  to  discover  the 
dawning  alarm  in  the  older  man's  features. 
"  You  opened  the  receiver ;  you  have  psychic 
waves  as  well  as  I.  /  was  in  love  at  the 


Drusilla  237 


time ;  you  were  not.  What  was  there  to  pre- 
vent your  waves  from  being  hitched  to  a 
wireless  current  and,  finally,  signaling  the 
subconscious  personality  of — of  some  pretty 
actress,  for  example  ?  " 

Mr.  Carr  sank  nervously  onto  a  chair;  his 
eyes,  already  wild,  became  wilder  as  he  be- 
gan to  realize  the  risk  he  had  unthinkingly 
taken! 

"  Perhaps  you  feel  a  little — queer.  You 
look  it,"  suggested  the  young  man,  in  a  voice 
made  anxious  by  an  ever-ready  sympathy. 
"  Can  I  do  anything  ?  I  am  really  very  sorry 
to  have  spoken  so." 

A  damp  chill  gathered  on  the  brow  of 
Bushwyck  Carr.  He  did  feel  a  trifle  queer. 
A  curious  lightness — a  perfectly  inexplicable 
buoyancy  semed  to  possess  him.  He  was  be- 
ginning to  feel  strangely  youthful ;  the  sound 
of  his  own  heart  suddenly  became  apparent. 
To  his  alarm  it  was  beating  playfully,  skit- 
tishly. No — it  was  not  even  beating;  it  was 
skipping. 

"  Y-Yates,"  he  stammered,  "  you  don't 
think  that  I  could  p-possibly  have  become 
inadvertently  mixed  up  with  that  horrible 
machine — do  you  ?  " 


238  The  Green  Mouse 

Now  Yates  was  a  generous  youth;  resent- 
ment at  the  treatment  meted  out  to  him  by 
this  florid,  bad-tempered  and  pompous  gentle- 
man changed  to  instinctive  sympathy  when 
he  suddenly  realized  the  plight  his  future 
father-in-law  might  now  be  in. 

"  Yates,"  repeated  Mr.  Carr  in  an  agitated 
voice,  "  tell  me  honestly :  do  you  think  there  is 
anything  unusual  the  matter  with  me?  I — I 
seem  to  f-feel  unusually — young.  Do  I  look 
it?  Have  I  changed?  W-watch  me  while  I 
walk  across  the  room." 

Mr.  Carr  arose  with  a  frightened  glance  at 
Yates,  put  on  his  hat,  and  fairly  pranced 
across  the  room.  "  Great  Heavens !  "  he  fal- 
tered ;  "  my  hat's  on  one  side  and  my  walk 
is  distinctly  jaunty!  Do  you  notice  it, 
Yates?" 

"  I'm  afraid  I  do,  Mr.  Carr." 

"  This — this  is  infamous !  "  gasped  Mr. 
Carr.  "  This  is — is  outrageous  !  I'm  forty- 
five  !  I'm  a  widower !  I  detest  a  jaunty  wid- 
ower !  I  don't  want  to  be  one ;  I  don't  want 

Yates  gazed  at  him  with  deep  concern. 
"  Can't  you  help  lifting  your  legs  that  way 
when  you  walk — as  though  a  band  were  play- 


Drusilla  239 


ing?  Wait,  I'll  straighten  your  hat.  Now  try 
it  again." 

Mr.  Carr  pranced  back  across  the  room. 

"I  know  I'm  doing  it  again,"  he  groaned, 
"  but  I  can't  help  it !  I— I  feel  so  gay — dam- 
mit ! — so  frivolous — it's — it's  that  infernal 
machine.  W-what  am  I  to  do,  Yates,"  he 
added  piteously,  "  when  the  world  looks  so 
good  to  me  ?  " 

"  Think  of  your  family ! "  urged  Yates. 
"  Think  of— of  Drusilla." 

"  Do  you  know,"  observed  Carr,  twirling 
his  eyeglass  and  twisting  his  mustache,  "  that 
I'm  beginning  not  to  care  what  my  family 
think !  .  .  .  Isn't  it  amazing,  Yates  ?  I — I 
seem  to  be  somebody  else,  several  years 
younger.  Somewhere,"  he  added,  with  a 
flourish  of  his  monocle — "  somewhere  on 
earth  there  is  a  little  birdie  waiting  for  me." 

"  Don't  talk  that  way !  "  exclaimed  Yates, 
horrified. 

"  Yes,  I  will,  young  man.  I  repeat,  with 
optimism  and  emphasis,  that  somewhere  there 
is  a  birdie " 

"Mr.  Carr!" 

"Yes,  merry  old  Top!" 

"  May  I  use  your  telephone  ?  " 


240  The  Green  Mouse 

"  I  don't  care  what  you  do !  "  said  Carr, 
gayly.  "  Use  my  telephone  if  you  like ;  pull 
it  out  by  the  roots  and  throw  it  over  Cooper's 
Bluff,  for  all  I  care!  But" — and  a  sudden 
glimmer  of  reason  seemed  to  come  over  him 
— "  if  you  have  one  grain  of  human  decency 
left  in  you,  you  won't  drag  me  and  my  ter- 
rible plight  into  that  scurrilous  New  York 
paper  of  yours." 

"No,"  said  Yates,  "I  won't.  And  that 
ends  my  career  on  Park  Row.  I'm  going  to 
telephone  my  resignation." 

Mr.  Carr  gazed  calmly  around  and  twisted 
his  mustache  with  a  satisfied  and  retrospec- 
tive smile. 

"  That's  very  decent  of  you,  Yates ;  you 
must  pardon  me;  I  was  naturally  half  scared 
to  death  at  first;  but  I  realize  you  are  act- 
ing very  handsomely  in  this  horrible  di- 
lemma  " 

"  Naturally,"  interrupted  Yates.  "  I  must 
stand  by  the  family  into  which  I  am,  as  you 
know,  destined  to  marry." 

"  To  be  sure,"  nodded  Carr,  absently ;  "  it 
really  looks  that  way,  doesn't  it !  And,  Yates, 
you  have  no  idea  how  I  hated  you  an  hour 
ago." 


Drusilla  241 


"  Yes,  I  have,"  said  Yates. 

"  No,  you  really  have  not,  if  you  will  per- 
mit me  to  contradict  you,  merry  old  Top. 
I — but  never  mind  now.  You  have  behaved 
in  an  unusually  considerate  manner.  Who 
the  devil  are  you,  anyway  ?  " 

Yates  informed  him  modestly. 

"  Well,  why  didn't  you  say  so,  instead  of 
letting  me  bully  you !  I've  known  your 
father  for  twenty  years.  Why  didn't  you 
tell  me  you  wanted  to  marry  Drusilla,  instead 
of  coming  and  blushing  all  over  the  premises  ? 
I'd  have  told  you  she  was  too  young ;  and  she 
is !  I'd  have  told  you  to  wait ;  and  you'd  have 
waited.  You'd  have  been  civil  enough  to 
wait  when  I  explained  to  you  that  I've 
already  lost,  by  marriage,  two  daughters 
through  that  accursed  machine.  You  wouldn't 
entirely  denude  me  of  daughters,  would 
you?" 

"  I  only  want  one,"  said  John  Yates, 
simply. 

"Well,  all  right;  I'm  a  decent  father-in- 
law  when  I've  got  to  be.  I'm  really  a  good 
sport.  You  may  ask  all  my  sons-in-law; 
they'll  admit  it."  He  scrutinized  the  young 
man  and  found  him  decidedly  agreeable  to  look 


242  The  Green  Mouse 

at,  and  at  the  same  time  a  vague  realization 
of  his  own  predicament  returned  for  a  mo- 
ment. 

"  Yates,"  he  said  unsteadily,  "  all  I  ask  of 
you  is  to  keep  this  terrible  n-news  from  my 
innocent  d-daughters  until  I  can  f-find  out 
what  sort  of  a  person  is  f-fated  to  lead  me  to 
the  altar!" 

Yates  took  the  offered  hand  with  genuine 
emotion. 

"  Surely/'  he  said,  "  your  unknown  in- 
tended must  be  some  charming  leader  in  the 
social  activities  of  the  great  metropolis." 

"  Who  knows !  She  may  be  m-my  own 
1-laundress  for  all  I  know.  She  may  be  any- 
thing, Yates!  She — she  might  even  be 
b-black!" 

"  Black !  " 

Mr.  Carr  nodded,  shuddered,  dashed  the 
unmanly  moisture  from  his  eyeglass. 

"  I  think  I'd  better  go  to  town  and  tell  my 
son-in-law,  William  Destyn,  exactly  what  has 
happened  to  me,"  he  said.  "  And  I  think  I'll 
go  through  the  kitchen  garden  and  take  my 
power  boat  so  that  those  devilish  reporters 
can't  follow  me.  Ferdinand !  "  to  the  man  at 
the  door,  "  ring  up  the  garage  and  order  the 


Drusilla  243 


blue  motor,  and  tell  those  newspaper  men 
I'm  going  to  town.  That,  I  think,  will  glue 
them  to  the  lawn  for  a  while." 

"  About— Drusilla,  sir?"  ventured  Yates; 
but  Mr.  Carr  was  already  gone,  speeding 
noiselessly  out  the  back  way,  through  the 
kitchen  garden,  and  across  the  great  tree- 
shaded  lawn  which  led  down  to  the  boat 
landing. 

Across  the  distant  hedge,  from  the  beauti- 
ful grounds  of  his  next-door  neighbor,  floated 
sounds  of  mirth  and  music.  Gay  flags  flut- 
tered among  the  trees.  The  Magnelius 
Grandcourts  were  evidently  preparing  for 
the  brilliant  charity  bazaar  to  be  held  there 
that  afternoon  and  evening. 

"  To  think,"  muttered  Carr,  "  that  only  an 
hour  ago  I  was  agreeably  and  comfortably  pre- 
pared to  pass  the  entire  afternoon  there  with 
my  daughters,  amid  innocent  revelry.  And 
now  I'm  in  flight — pursued  by  furies  of  my 
own  invoking — threatened  with  love  in  its 
most  hideous  form — matrimony!  Any  wom- 
an I  now  look  upon  may  be  my  intended 
bride  for  all  I  know,"  he  continued,  turning 
into  the  semiprivate  driveway,  bordered 
heavily  by  lilacs ;  "  and  the  curious  thing 
17 


244  The  Green  Mouse 

about  it  is  that  I  really  don't  care;  in  fact, 
the  excitement  is  mildly  pleasing." 

He  halted;  in  the  driveway,  blocking  it, 
stood  a  red  motor  car — a  little  runabout  af- 
fair; and  at  the  steering-wheel  sat  a  woman 
— a  lady's  maid  by  her  cap  and  narrow  apron, 
and  an  exceedingly  pretty  one,  at  that. 

When  she  saw  Mr.  Carr  she  looked  up, 
showing  an  edge  of  white  teeth  in  the  most 
unembarrassed  of  smiles.  She  certainly  was 
an  unusually  agreeable-looking  girl. 

"  Has  something  gone  wrong  with  your 
motor?"  inquired  Mr.  Carr,  pleasantly. 

"  I  am  afraid  so."  She  didn't  say  "  sir  " ; 
probably  because  she  was  too  pretty  to  bother 
about  such  incidentals.  And  she  looked  at 
Carr  and  smiled,  as  though  he  were  particu- 
larly ornamental. 

"  Let  me  see,"  began  Mr.  Carr,  laying  his 
hand  on  the  steering-wheel ;  "  perhaps  I  can 
make  it  go." 

"  It  won't  go,"  she  said,  a  trifle  despond- 
ently and  shaking  her  charming  head.  "  I've 
been  here  nearly  half  an  hour  waiting  for  it 
to  do  something;  but  it  won't." 

Mr.  Carr  peered  wisely  into  the  acetylenes, 
looked  carefully  under  the  hood,  examined 


Drusilla  245 


the  upholstery.  He  didn't  know  anything 
about  motors. 

"  I'm  afraid,"  he  said  sadly,  "  that  there's 
something  wrong  with  the  magne-e-to !  " 

"  Do  you  think  it  is  as  bad  as  that  ?  " 

"  I  fear  so,"  he  said  gravely.  "  If  I  were 
you  I'd  get  out — and  keep  well  away  from 
that  machine." 

"  Why  ?  "  she  asked  nervously,  stepping  to 
the  grass  beside  him. 

"  It  might  blow  up." 

They  backed  away  rather  hastily,  side  by 
side.  After  a  while  they  backed  farther  away, 
hand  in  hand. 

"  I — I  hate  to  leave  it  there  all  alone,"  said 
the  maid,  when  they  had  backed  completely 
out  of  sight  of  the  car.  "If  there  was  only 
some  safe  place  where  I  could  watch  and  see 
if  it  is  going  to  explode." 

They  ventured  back  a  little  way  and  peeped 
at  the  motor. 

"  You  could  take  a  rowboat  and  watch  it 
from  the  water,"  said  Mr.  Carr. 

"  But  I  don't  know  how  to  row." 

Mr.  Carr  looked  at  her.  Certainly  she  was 
the  most  prepossessing  specimen  of  whole- 
some, rose-cheeked  and  ivory-skinned  worn- 


246  The  Green  Mouse 

anhood  that  he  had  ever  beheld;  a  trifle 
nearer  thirty-five  than  twenty-five,  he 
thought,  but  so  sweet  and  fresh  and  with 
such  charming  eyes  and  manners. 

"  I  have,"  said  Mr.  Carr,  "  several  hours 
at  my  disposal  before  I  go  to  town  on  im- 
portant business.  If  you  like  I  will  row  you 
out  in  one  of  my  boats,  and  then,  from  a  safe 
distance,  we  can  sit  and  watch  your  motor 
blow  up.  Shall  we  ?  " 

"  It  is  most  kind  of  you " 

"  Not  at  all.  It  would  be  most  kind  of 
you" 

She  looked  sideways  at  the  motor,  sideways 
at  the  water,  sideways  at  Mr.  Carr. 

It  was  a  very  lovely  morning  in  early 
June. 

As  Mr.  Carr  handed  her  into  the  rowboat 
with  ceremony  she  swept  him  a  courtesy. 
Her  apron  and  manners  were  charmingly  in- 
congruous. 

When  she  was  gracefully  seated  in  the 
stern  Mr.  Carr  turned  for  a  moment,  stared 
all  Oyster  Bay  calmly  in  the  face  through  his 
monocle,  then,  untying  the  painter,  fairly 
skipped  into  the  boat  with  a  step  distinctly 
frolicsome. 


Drusilla  247 


"  It's  curious  how  I  feel  about  this,"  he  ob- 
served, digging  both  oars  into  the  water. 

"  How  do  you  feel,  Mr.  Carr?  " 

"  Like  a  bird,"  he  said  softly. 

And  the  boat  moved  off  gently  through  the 
sparkling  waters  of  Oyster  Bay. 

At  that  same  moment,  also,  the  sparkling 
waters  of  Oyster  Bay  were  gently  caressing 
the  classic  contours  of  Cooper's  Bluff,  and 
upon  that  monumental  headland,  seated  under 
sketching  umbrellas,  Flavilla  and  Drusilla 
worked,  in  a  puddle  of  water  colors;  and 
John  Chillingham  Yates,  in  becoming  white 
flannels  and  lilac  tie  and  hosiery,  lay  on  the 
sod  and  looked  at  Drusilla. 

Silence,  delicately  accented  by  the  faint 
harmony  of  mosquitoes,  brooded  over  Coop- 
er's Bluff. 

"  There's  no  use,"  said  Drusilla  at  last ; 
"  one  can  draw  a  landscape  from  every  point 
of  view  except  looking  down  hill.  Mr.  Yates, 
how  on  earth  am  I  to  sit  here  and  make  a 
drawing  looking  down  hill  ?  " 

"Perhaps,"  he  said,  "I  had  better  hold 
your  pencil  again.  Shall  I  ?  " 

"  Do  you  think  that  would  help  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  helps — somehow." 


248  The  Green  Mouse 

Her  pretty,  narrow  hand  held  the  pencil; 
his  sun-browned  hand  closed  over  it.  She 
looked  at  the  pad  on  her  knees. 

After  a  while  she  said :  "  I  think,  perhaps, 
we  had  better  draw.  Don't  you  ?  " 

They  made  a  few  hen-tracks.  Noticing  his 
shoulder  was  just  touching  hers,  and  feeling 
a  trifle  weary  on  her  camp-stool,  she  leaned 
back  a  little. 

"  It  is  very  pleasant  to  have  you  here,"  she 
said  dreamily. 

"  It  is  very  heavenly  to  be  here/'  he  said. 

"  How  generous  you  are  to  give  us  so 
much  of  your  time !  "  murmured  Drusilla. 

"  I  think  so,  too,"  said  Flavilla,  washing  a 
badger  brush.  "  And  I  am  becoming  almost 
as  fond  of  you  as  Drusilla  is." 

"  Don't  you  like  him  as  well  as  I  do  ?  " 
asked  Drusilla. 

Flavilla  turned  on  her  camp-stool  and  in- 
spected them  both. 

"  Not  quite  as  well,"  she  said  frankly. 
"  You  know,  Drusilla,  you  are  very  nearly 
in  love  with  him."  And  she  resumed  her 
sketching. 

Drusilla  gazed  at  the  purple  horizon  unem- 
barrassed. "  Am  I  ?  "  she  said  absently. 


Drusilla  249 


"  Are  you  ? "  he  repeated,  close  to  her 
shoulder. 

She  turned  and  looked  into  his  sun-tanned 
face  curiously. 

"  What  is  it— to  love?  Is  it  "—she  looked 
at  him  undisturbed — "  is  it  to  be  quite  happy 
and  lazy  with  a  man  like  you  ?  " 

He  was  silent. 

"  I  thought,"  she  continued,  "  that  there 
would  be  some  hesitation,  some  shyness 
about  it — some  embarrassment.  But  there 
has  been  none  between  you  and  me." 

He  said  nothing. 

She  went  on  absently : 

"  You  said,  the  other  day,  very  simply,  that 
you  cared  a  great  deal  for  me ;  and  I  was  not 
very  much  surprised.  And  I  said  that  I  cared 
very  much  for  you.  .  .  .  And,  by  the  way,  I 
meant  to  ask  you  yesterday;  are  we  en- 
gaged?" 

"Are  we?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes — if  you  wish.  ...  Is  that  all  there  is 
to  an  engagement  ?  " 

"  There's  a  ring,"  observed  Flavilla,  dab- 
bing on  too  much  ultramarine  and  using  a 
sponge.  "  You've  got  to  get  her  one,  Mr. 
Yates." 


250  The  Green  Mouse 

Drusilla  looked  at  the  man  beside  her  and 
smiled. 

"  How  simple  it  is,  after  all !  "  she  said.  "  I 
have  read  in  the  books  Pa-pah  permits  us  to 
read  such  odd  things  about  love  and  lovers. 
.  .  .  Are  we  lovers,  Mr.  Yates?  But,  of 
course,  we  must  be,  I  fancy." 

"  Yes,"  he  said. 

"  Some  time  or  other,  when  it  is  conven- 
ient," observed  Flavilla,  "  you  ought  to  kiss 
each  other  occasionally." 

"  That  doesn't  come  until  I'm  a  bride,  does 
it?"  asked  Drusilla. 

"  I  believe  it's  a  matter  of  taste,"  said 
Flavilla,  rising  and  naively  stretching  her 
long,  pretty  limbs. 

She  stood  a  moment  on  the  edge  of  the 
bluff,  looking  down. 

"  How  curious !  "  she  said  after  a  moment. 
"  There  is  Pa-pah  on  the  water  rowing 
somebody's  maid  about." 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  Yates,  springing  to 
his  feet. 

"  How  extraordinary,"  said  Drusilla,  fol- 
lowing him  to  the  edge  of  the  bluff ;  "  and 
they're  singing,  too,  as  they  row !  " 

From  far  below,  wafted  across  the  spark- 


Drusilla  251 


ling  waters  of  Oyster  Bay,  Mr.  Carr's  rich 
and  mellifluous  voice  was  wafted  shoreward: 

"  I  der-reamt  that  I  dwelt  in  ma-arble  h-a-l-ls." 

The  sunlight  fell  on  the  maid's  coquettish 
cap  and  apron,  and  sparkled  upon  the  buckle 
of  one  dainty  shoe.  It  also  glittered  across 
the  monocle  of  Mr.  Carr. 

"Pa-pah!"  cried  Flavilla. 

Far  away  her  parent  waved  a  careless  greet- 
ing to  his  offspring,  then  resumed  his  oars 
and  his  song. 

"  How  extraordinary ! "  said  Flavilla. 
"  Why  do  you  suppose  that  Pa-pah  is  rowing 
somebody's  maid  around  the  bay,  and  singing 
that  way  to  her?  " 

"  Perhaps  it's  one  of  our  maids,"  said  Dru- 
silla ;  "  but  that  would  be  rather  odd,  too, 
wouldn't  it,  Mr.  Yates?" 

"A — little,"  he  admitted.  And  his  heart 
sank. 

Flavilla  had  started  down  the  sandy  face  of 
the  bluff. 

"  I'm  going  to  see  whose  maid  it  is,"  she 
called  back. 

Drusilla  seated  herself  in  the  sun-dried 
grass  and  watched  her  sister. 


252  The  Green  Mouse 

Yates  stood  beside  her  in  bitter  dejec- 
tion. 

So  this  was  the  result !  His  unfortunate 
future  father-in-law  was  done  for.  What  a 
diabolical  machine!  What  a  terrible,  swift, 
relentless  answer  had  been  returned  when, 
out  of  space,  this  misguided  gentleman  had, 
by  mistake,  summoned  his  own  affinity !  And 
what  an  affinity!  A  saucy  soubrette  who 
might  easily  have  just  stepped  from  the 
coulisse  of  a  Parisian  theater! 

Yates  looked  at  Drusilla.  What  an  awful 
blow  was  impending!  She  never  could  have 
suspected  it,  but  there,  in  that  boat,  sat  her 
future  stepmother  in  cap  and  apron! — his 
own  future  stepmother-in-law ! 

And  in  the  misery  of  that  moment's  realiza- 
tion John  Chillingham  Yates  showed  the  ma- 
terial of  which  he  was  constructed. 

"  Dear,"  he  said  gently. 

"  Do  you  mean  me  ?  "  asked  Drusilla,  look- 
ing up  in  frank  surprise. 

And  at  the  same  time  she  saw  on  his  face 
a  look  which  she  had  never  before  encoun- 
tered there.  It  was  the  shadow  of  trouble; 
and  it  drew  her  to  her  fe-et  instinctively. 

"  What  is  it,  Jack?  "  she  asked. 


Drusilla  253 


She  had  never  before  called  him  anything 
but  Mr.  Yates. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  she  repeated,  turning  away 
beside  him  along  the  leafy  path;  and  with 
every  word  another  year  seemed,  somehow, 
to  be  added  to  her  youth.  "  Has  any- 
thing happened,  Jack?  Are  you  unhappy — 
or  ill?" 

He  did  not  speak ;  she  walked  beside  him, 
regarding  him  with  wistful  eyes. 

So  there  was  more  of  love  than  happiness, 
after  all;  she  began  to  half  understand  it  in 
a  vague  way  as  she  watched  his  somber  face. 
There  certainly  was  more  of  love  than  a  mere 
lazy  happiness ;  there  was  solicitude  and 
warm  concern,  and  desire  to  comfort,  to  pro- 
tect. 

"  Jack,"  she  said  tremulously. 

He  turned  and  took  her  unresisting  hands. 
A  quick  thrill  shot  through  her.  Yes,  there 
was  more  to  love  than  she  had  expected. 

"  Are  you  unhappy?  "  she  asked.  "  Tell  me. 
I  can't  bear  to  see  you  this  way.  I — I  never 
did— before." 

"  Will  you  love  me,  Drusilla?  " 

«  Yes— yes,  I  will,  Jack." 

"Dearly?" 


254  The  Green  Mouse 

"  I  do — dearly."  The  first  blush  that  ever 
tinted  her  cheek  spread  and  deepened. 

"  Will  you  marry  me,  Drusilla  ?  " 

"  Yes.  .  .  .  You  frighten  me." 

She  trembled,  suddenly,  in  his  arms.  Surely 
there  were  more  things  to  love  than  she  had 
dreamed  of  in  her  philosophy.  She  looked  up 
as  he  bent  nearer,  understanding  that  she  was 
to  be  kissed,  awaiting  the  event  which  sud- 
denly loomed  up  freighted  with  terrific  sig- 
nificance. 

There  was  a  silence,  a  sob. 

"  Jack — darling — I — I  love  you  so !  " 

Flavilla  was  sketching  on  her  camp-stool 
when  they  returned. 

"  I'm  horridly  hungry,"  she  said.  "  It's 
luncheon  time,  isn't  it  ?  And,  by  the  way,  it's 
all  right  about  that  maid.  She  was  on  her 
way  to  serve  in  the  tea  pavilion  at  Mrs.  Mag- 
nelius  Grandcourt's  bazaar,  and  her  runabout 
broke  down  and  nearly  blew  up." 

"  What  on  earth  are  you  talking  about  ?  " 
exclaimed  Drusilla. 

"  I'm  talking  about  Mrs.  Magnelius  Grand- 
court's  younger  sister  from  Philadelphia,  who 
looks  perfectly  sweet  as  a  lady's  maid.  Tea," 


Drusilla  255 


she  added,  "  is  to  be  a  dollar  a  cup,  and  three 
if  you  take  sugar.  And,"  she  continued,  "if 
you  and  I  are  to  sell  flowers  there  this  after- 
noon we'd  better  go  home  and  dress.  .  .  . 
What  are  you  smiling  at,  Mr.  Yates  ?  " 

Drusilla  naturally  supposed  she  could  an- 
swer that  question. 

"  Dearest  little  sister,"  she  said  shyly  and 
tenderly,  "  we  have  something  very  wonder- 
ful to  tell  you." 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Flavilla. 

"  We — we  are — engaged,"  whispered  Dru- 
silla, radiant. 

"  Why,  I  knew  that  already!  "  said  Flavilla. 

"  Did  you  ?  "  sighed  her  sister,  turning  to 
look  at  her  tall,  young  lover.  "  I  didn't.  .  .  . 
Being  in  love  is  a  much  more  complicated 
matter  than  you  and  I  imagined,  Flavilla.  Is 
it  not,  Jack  ?  " 


XVI 


FLA VILLA 

Containing  a  Parable  Told  with  Such  Met- 
aphorical Skill  that  the  Author  Is  Totally 
Unable  to  Understand  It 

THE  Green  Mouse  now  dominated  the 
country;   the   entire   United    States 
was  occupied  in  getting  married. 
In  the  great  main  office  on  Madison  Ave- 
nue, and  in  a  thousand  branch  offices  all  over 
the  Union,  Destyn-Carr  machines  were  work- 
ing furiously;  a  love-mad  nation  was  illumi- 
nated by  their  sparks. 

256 


Flavilla  257 


Marriage-license  bureaus  had  been  almost 
put  out  of  business  by  the  sudden  matrimonial 
rush ;  clergymen  became  exhausted,  wedding 
bells  in  the  churches  were  worn  thin,  Califor- 
nia and  Florida  reported  no  orange  crops,  as 
all  the  blossoms  had  been  required  for  brides ; 
there  was  a  shortage  of  solitaires,  traveling 
clocks,  asparagus  tongs;  and  the  corner  in 
rice  perpetrated  by  some  conscienceless  cap- 
tain of  industry  produced  a  panic  equaled  only 
by  a  more  terrible  coup  in  slightly  worn  shoes. 

All  America  was  rushing  to  get  married ; 
from  Seattle  to  Key  West  the  railroads  were 
blocked  with  bridal  parties ;  a  vast  hum  of 
merrymaking  resounded  from  the  Golden 
Gate  to  Governor's  Island,  from  Niagara  to 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  In  New  York  City  the 
din  was  persistent;  all  day  long  church  bells 
pealed,  all  day  long  the  rattle  of  smart  car- 
riages and  hired  hacks  echoed  over  the  as- 
phalt. A  reporter  of  the  Tribune  stood  on 
top  of  the  New  York  Life  tower  for  an  entire 
week,  devouring  cold-slaw  sandwiches  and 
Marie  Corelli,  and  during  that  period,  as  his 
affidavit  runs,  "  never  for  one  consecutive  sec- 
ond "  were  his  ample  ears  free  from  the  near 
or  distant  strains  of  the  Wedding  March. 


258  The  Green  Mouse 

And  over  all,  in  approving  benediction, 
brooded  the  wide  smile  of  the  greatest  of 
statesmen  and  the  great  smile  of  the  wid- 
est of  statesmen — these  two,  metaphorically, 
hand  in  hand,  floated  high  above  their  people, 
scattering  encouraging  blessings  on  every 
bride. 

A  tremendous  rise  in  values  set  in;  the 
newly  married  required  homes ;  architects 
were  rushed  to  death;  builders,  real-estate 
operators,  brokers,  could  not  handle  the  busi- 
ness hurled  at  them  by  impatient  bride- 
grooms. 

Then,  seizing  time  by  the  fetlock,  some  in- 
describable monster  secured  the  next  ten 
years'  output  of  go-carts.  The  sins  of  Stand- 
ard Oil  were  forgotten  in  the  menace  of  such 
a  national  catastrophe;  mothers'  meetings 
were  held ;  the  excitement  became  stupendous ; 
a  hundred  thousand  brides  invaded  the  At- 
torney-General's office,  but  all  he  could  think 
of  to  say  was :  "  Thirty  centuries  look  down 
upon  you ! " 

These  vague  sentiments  perplexed  the 
country.  People  understood  that  the  Gov- 
ernment meant  well,  but  they  also  realized 
that  the  time  was  not  far  off  when  millions 


Flavilla  259 


of  go-carts  would  be  required  in  the  United 
States.  And  they  no  longer  hesitated. 

All  over  the  Union  fairs  and  bazaars  were 
held  to  collect  funds  for  a  great  national  fac- 
tory to  turn  out  carts.  Alarmed,  the  Trust 
tried  to  unload;  militant  womanhood,  thor- 
oughly aroused,  scorned  compromise.  In  every 
city,  town,  and  hamlet  of  the  nation  enter- 
tainments were  given,  money  collected  for  the 
great  popular  go-cart  factory. 

The  affair  planned  for  Oyster  Bay  was  to 
be  particularly  brilliant — a  water  carnival  at 
Center  Island  with  tableaux,  fireworks,  and 
illuminations  of  all  sorts. 

Reassured  by  the  magnificent  attitude  of 
America's  womanhood,  business  discounted 
the  collapse  of  the  go-cart  trust  and  began 
to  recover  from  the  check  very  quickly. 
Stocks  advanced,  fluctuated,  and  suddenly 
whizzed  upward  like  skyrockets;  and  the 
long-expected  wave  of  prosperity  inundated 
the  country.  On  the  crest  of  it  rode  Cupid, 
bow  and  arrows  discarded,  holding  aloft  in  his 
right  hand  a  Destyn-Carr  machine. 

For  the  old  order  of  things  had  passed 
away;  the  old-fashioned  doubts  and  fears  of 
courtship  were  now  practically  superfluous. 
18 


260  The  Green  Mouse 

Anybody  on  earth  could  now  buy  a  ticket  and 
be  perfectly  certain  that  whoever  he  or  she 
might  chance  to  marry  would  be  the  right  one 
— the  one  intended  by  destiny. 

Yet,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  there  still 
remained,  here  and  there,  a  few  young  people 
in  the  United  States  who  had  no  desire  to  be 
safely  provided  for  by  a  Destyn-Carr  machine. 

Whether  there  was  in  them  some  sporting 
instinct,  making  hazard  attractive,  or,  per- 
haps, a  conviction  that  Fate  is  kind,  need  not 
be  discussed.  The  fact  remains  that  there 
were  a  very  few  youthful  and  marriageable 
folk  who  had  no  desire  to  know  beforehand 
what  their  fate  might  be. 

One  of  these  unregenerate  reactionists  was 
Flavilla.  To  see  her  entire  family  married  by 
machinery  was  enough  for  her;  to  witness 
such  consummate  and  collective  happiness 
became  slightly  cloying.  Perfection  can  be 
overdone;  a  rift  in  a  lute  relieves  melodious 
monotony,  and  when  discords  cease  to  amuse, 
one  can  always  have  the  instrument  mended 
or  buy  a  banjo. 

"  What  I  desire,"  she  said,  ignoring  the  re- 
monstrances of  the  family,  "  is  a  chance  to 
make  mistakes.  Three  or  four  nice  men  have 


Flavilla  261 


thought  they  were  in  love  with  me,  and  I 
wouldn't  take  anything  for  the — experience. 
Or,"  she  added  innocently,  "  for  the  chances 
that  some  day  three  or  four  more  agreeable 
young  men  may  think  they  are  in  love  with 
me.  One  learns  by  making  mistakes — very 
pleasantly." 

Her  family  sat  in  an  affectionately  earnest 
row  and  adjured  her — four  married  sisters, 
four  blissful  brothers-in-law,  her  attractive 
stepmother,  her  father.  She  shook  her  pretty 
head  and  continued  sewing  on  the  costume 
she  was  to  wear  at  the  Oyster  Bay  Venetian 
Fete  and  Go-cart  Fair. 

"  No,"  she  said,  threading  her  needle  and 
deftly  sewing  a  shining,  silvery  scale  onto  the 
mermaid's  dress  lying  across  her  knees,  "  I'll 
take  my  chances  with  men.  It's  better  fun  to 
love  a  man  not  intended  for  me,  and  make 
him  love  me,  and  live  happily  and  defiantly 
ever  after,  than  to  have  a  horrid  old  machine 
settle  you  for  life." 

"  But  you  are  wasting  time,  dear,"  ex- 
plained her  stepmother  gently. 

"  Oh,  no,  I'm  not.  I've  been  engaged  three 
times  and  I've  enjoyed  it  immensely.  That 
isn't  wasting  time,  is  it  ?  And  it's  such  fun  I 


262  The  Green  Mouse 

He  thinks  he's  in  love  and  you  think  you're 
in  love,  and  you  have  such  an  agreeable  time 
together  until  you  find  out  that  you're  spoons 
on  somebody  else.  And  then  you  find  out 
you're  mistaken  and  you  say  you  always  want 
him  for  a  friend,  and  you  presently  begin  all 

over  again  with  a  perfectly  new  man " 

.  "  Flavilla !  " 

"  Yes,  Pa-pah." 

"  Are  you  utterly  demoralized !  " 

"  Demoralized  ?  Why  ?  Everybody  be- 
haved as  I  do  before  you  and  William  in- 
vented your  horrid  machine.  Everybody  in 
the  world  married  at  hazard,  after  being 
engaged  to  various  interesting  young  men. 
And  I'm  not  demoralized ;  I'm  only  old- 
fashioned  enough  to  take  chances.  Please  let 
me." 

The  family  regarded  her  sadly.  In  their 
amalgamated  happiness  they  deplored  her  re- 
luctance to  enter  where  perfect  bliss  was 
guaranteed. 

Her  choice  of  role  and  costume  for  the  Sea- 
wanhaka  Club  water  tableaux  they  also  dis- 
approved of;  for  she  had  chosen  to  represent 
a  character  now  superfluous  and  out  of  date 
— the  Lorelei  who  lured  Teutonic  yachtsmen 


Flavilla  263 


to  destruction  with  her  singing  some  cen- 
turies ago.  And  that,  in  these  times,  was 
ridiculous,  because,  fortified  by  a  visit  to  the 
nearest  Destyn-Carr  machine,  no  weak-mind- 
ed young  sailorman  would  care  what  a  Lorelei 
might  do ;  and  she  could  sing  her  pretty  head 
off  and  comb  herself  bald  before  any  Destyn- 
Carr  inoculated  mariner  would  be  lured  over- 
board. 

But  Flavilla  obstinately  insisted  on  her 
scaled  and  fish-tailed  costume.  When  her 
turn  came,  a  spot-light  on  the  clubhouse  was 
to  illuminate  the  float  and  reveal  her,  combing 
her  golden  hair  with  a  golden  comb  and  sing- 
ing away  like  the  Musical  Arts. 

"  And,"  she  thought  secretly,  "  if  there  re- 
mains upon  this  machine-made  earth  one 
young  man  worth  my  kind  consideration,  it 
wouldn't  surprise  me  very  much  if  he*  took 
a  header  off  the  Yacht  Club  wharf  and  re- 
quested me  to  be  his.  And  I'd  be  very  likely 
to  listen  to  his  suggestion." 

So  in  secret  hopes  of  this  pleasing  episode 
— but  not  giving  any  such  reason  to  her  pro- 
testing family — she  vigorously  resisted  all  at- 
tempts to  deprive  her  of  her  fish  scales,  gold- 
en comb,  and  role  in  the  coming  water  fete. 


264  The  Green  Mouse 

And  now  the  programmes  were  printed  and 
it  was  too  late  for  them  to  intervene. 

She  rose,  holding  out  the  glittering,  finny 
garment,  which  flashed  like  a  collapsed  fish 
in  the  sunshine. 

"  It's  finished,"  she  said.  "  Now  I'm  going 
off  somewhere  by  myself  to  rehearse." 

"  In  the  water  ?  "  asked  her  father  uneasily. 

"  Certainly." 

As  Flavilla  was  a  superb  swimmer  nobody 
could  object.  Later,  a  maid  went  down  to  the 
landing,  stowed  away  luncheon,  water-bottles 
and  costume  in  the  canoe.  Later,  Flavilla 
herself  came  down  to  the  water's  edge,  hat- 
less,  sleeves  rolled  up,  balancing  a  paddle 
across  her  shoulders. 

As  the  paddle  flashed  and  the  canoe  danced 
away  over  the  sparkling  waters  of  Oyster  Bay, 
Flavilla  hummed  the  threadbare  German  song 
which  she  was  to  sing  in  her  role  of  Lorelei, 
and  headed  toward  Northport. 

"  The  thing  to  do,"  she  thought  to  herself, 
"  is  to  find  some  nice,  little,  wooded  inlet 
where  I  can  safely  change  my  costume  and 
rehearse.  I  must  know  whether  I  can  swim 
in  this  thing — and  whether  I  can  sing  while 
swimming  about.  It  would  be  more  effective, 


Flavilla  265 


I  think,  than  merely  sitting  on  the  float,  and 
singing  and  combing  my  hair  through  all 
those  verses." 

The  canoe  danced  across  the  water,  the 
paddle  glittered,  dipped,  swept  astern,  and 
flashed  again.  Flavilla  was  very,  very  happy 
for  no  particular  reason,  which  is  the  best 
sort  of  happiness  on  earth. 

There  is  a  sandy  neck  of  land  which  ob- 
structs direct  navigation  between  the  sacred 
waters  of  Oyster  Bay  and  the  profane  floods 
which  wash  the  gravelly  shores  of  Northport. 

"  I'll  make  a  carry,"  thought  Flavilla, 
beaching  her  canoe.  Then,  looking  around 
her  at  the  lonely  stretch  of  sand  flanked  by 
woods,  she  realized  at  once  that  she  need 
seek  no  farther  for  seclusion. 

First  of  all,  she  dragged  the  canoe  into 
the  woods,  then  rapidly  undressed  and  drew 
on  the  mermaid's  scaly  suit,  which  fitted 
her  to  the  throat  as  beautifully  as  her  own 
skin. 

It  was  rather  difficult  for  her  to  navigate 
on  land,  as  her  legs  were  incased  in  a  fish's 
tail,  but,  seizing  her  comb  and  mirror,  she 
managed  to  wriggle  down  to  the  water's 
edge. 


266  The  Green  Mouse 

A  few  sun-warmed  rocks  jutted  up  some 
little  distance  from  shore ;  with  a  final  and 
vigorous  wriggle  Flavilla  launched  herself 
and  struck  out  for  the  rocks,  holding  comb 
and  mirror  in  either  hand. 

Fishtail  and  accessories  impeded  her,  but 
she  was  the  sort  of  swimmer  who  took  no 
account  of  such  trifles ;  and  after  a  while  she 
drew  herself  up  from  the  sea,  and,  breathless, 
glittering,  iridescent,  flopped  down  upon  a 
flat  rock  in  the  sunshine.  From  which  she 
took  a  careful  survey  of  the  surroundings. 

Certainly  nobody  could  see  her  here.  No- 
body would  interrupt  her  either,  because  the 
route  of  navigation  lay  far  outside,  to  the 
north.  All  around  were  woods;  the  place 
was  almost  landlocked,  save  where,  far  away 
through  the  estuary,  a  blue  and  hazy  horizon 
glimmered  in  the  general  direction  of  New 
England. 

So,  when  she  had  recovered  sufficient 
breath  she  let  down  the  flashing,  golden- 
brown  hair,  sat  up  on  the  rock,  lifted  her 
pretty  nose  skyward,  and  poured  forth 
melody. 

As  she  sang  the  tiresome  old  Teutonic  bal- 
lad she  combed  away  vigorously,  and  every 


Flavilla  267 


now  and  then  surveyed  her  features  in  the 
mirror. 

Ich  weiss  nicht  was  soil  es  bedeuten 
Dass  ich  so  traurig  bin 

she  sang  happily,  studying  her  gestures  with 
care  and  cheerfully  flopping  her  tail. 

She  had  a  very  lovely  voice  which  had  been 
expensively  cultivated.  One  or  two  small 
birds  listened  attentively  for  a  while,  then 
started  in  to  help  her  out. 

On  the  veranda  of  his  bungalow,  not  very 
far  from  Northport,  stood  a  young  man  of 
pleasing  aspect,  knickerbockers,  and  unusu- 
ally symmetrical  legs.  His  hands  reposed  in 
his  pockets,  his  eyes  behind  their  eyeglasses 
were  fixed  dreamily  upon  the  skies.  Some- 
body over  beyond  that  screen  of  woods  was 
singing  very  beautifully,  and  he  liked  it — at 
first. 

However,  when  the  unseen  singer  had  been 
singing  the  Lorelei  for  an  hour,  steadily, 
without  intermission,  an  expression  of  sur- 
prise gradually  developed  into  uneasy  aston- 
ishment upon  his  clean-cut  and  unusually  at- 
tractive features. 

"  That  girl,   whoever   she  is,   can   sing,  all 


268  The  Green  Mouse 

right,"  he  reflected,  "  but  why  on  earth  does 
she  dope  out  the  same  old  thing?  " 

He  looked  at  the  strip  of  woods,  but  could 
see  nothing  of  the  singer.  He  listened;  she 
continued  to  sing  the  Lorelei. 

"  It  can't  be  a  phonograph,"  he  reasoned. 
<f  No  sane  person  could  endure  an  hour  of 
that  fool  song.  No  sane  person  would  sing 
it  for  an  hour,  either." 

Disturbed,  he  picked  up  the  marine  glasses, 
slung  them  over  his  shoulder,  walked  up  on 
the  hill  back  of  the  bungalow,  selected  a 
promising  tree,  and  climbed  it. 

Astride  a  lofty  limb  the  lord  of  Northport 
gazed  earnestly  across  the  fringe  of  woods. 
Something  sparkled  out  there,  something 
moved,  glittering  on  a  half -submerged  rock. 
He  adjusted  the  marine  glasses  and  squinted 
through  them. 

"  Great  James ! "  he  faltered,  dropping 
them;  and  almost  followed  the  glasses  to  de- 
struction on  the  ground  below. 

How  he  managed  to  get  safely  to  earth  he 
never  knew.  "  Either  I'm  crazy,"  he  shouted 
aloud,  "  or  there's  a — a  mermaid  out  there, 
and  I'm  going  to  find  out  before  they  chase 
me  to  the  funny  house !  " 


Flavilla  269 


There  was  a  fat  tub  of  a  boat  at  his  land- 
ing ;  he  reached  the  shore  in  a  series  of  long, 
distracted  leaps,  sprang  aboard,  cast  off, 
thrust  both  oars  deep  into  the  water,  and 
fairly  hurled  the  boat  forward,  so  that  it  al- 
ternately skipped,  wallowed,  scuttered,  and 
scrambled,  like  a  hen  overboard. 

"This  is  terrible/'  he  groaned.  "If  I 
didn't  see  what  I  think  I  saw,  I'll  eat  my  hat ; 
if  I  did  see  what  I'm  sure  I  saw,  I'm  madder 
than  the  hatter  who  made  it !  " 

Nearer  and  nearer,  heard  by  him  distinctly 
above  the  frantic  splashing  of  his  oars,  her 
Lorelei  song  sounded  perilously  sweet  and 
clear. 

"  Oh,  bunch  !  "  he  moaned ;  "  it's  horribly 
like  the  real  thing ;  and  here  I  come  headlong, 
as  they  do  in  the  story  books " 

He  caught  a  crab  that  landed  him  in  a 
graceful  parabola  in  the  bow,  where  he 
lay  biting  at  the  air  to  recover  his  breath. 
Then  his  boat's  nose  plowed  into  the  sandy 
neck  of  land ;  he  clambered  to  his  feet,  jumped 
out,  and  ran  headlong  into  the  belt  of  trees 
which  screened  the  singer.  Speed  and  gait 
recalled  the  effortless  grace  of  the  kangaroo; 
when  he  encountered  logs  and  gullies  he  rose 


270  The  Green  Mouse 

grandly,  sailing  into  space,  landing  with  a 
series  of  soft  bounces,  which  presently 
brought  him  to  the  other  side  of  the  woods. 

And  there,  what  he  beheld,  what  he  heard, 
almost  paralyzed  him.  Weak-kneed,  he 
passed  a  trembling  hand  over  his  incredulous 
eyes;  with  the  courage  of  despair,  he  feebly 
pinched  himself.  Then  for  sixty  sickening 
seconds  he  closed  his  eyes  and  pressed  both 
hands  over  his  ears.  But  when  he  took  his 
hands  away  and  opened  his  terrified  eyes,  the 
exquisitely  seductive  melody,  wind  blown 
from  the  water,  thrilled  him  in  every  fiber; 
his  wild  gaze  fell  upon  a  distant,  glitter- 
ing shape — white-armed,  golden-haired,  fish- 
tailed,  slender  body  glittering  with  silvery 
scales. 

The  low  rippling  wash  of  the  tide  across 
the  pebbly  shore  was  in  his  ears ;  the  salt  wind 
was  in  his  throat.  He  saw  the  sun  flash  on 
golden  comb  and  mirror,  as  her  snowy  fin- 
gers caressed  the  splendid  masses  of  her  hair ; 
her  song  stole  sweetly  seaward  as  the  wind 
veered. 

A  terrible  calm  descended  upon  him. 

"  This  is  interesting,"  he  said  aloud. 

A   sickening  wave    of   terror   swept   him, 


Flavilla  271 


but  he  straightened  up,  squaring  his  shoul- 
ders. 

"  I  may  as  well  face  the  fact,"  he  said, 
"that  I,  Henry  Kingsbury,  of  Pebble  Point, 
Northport,  L.  I.,  and  recently  in  my  right 
mind,  am  now,  this  very  moment,  looking  at 
a — a  mermaid  in  Long  Island  Sound !  " 

He  shuddered;  but  he  was  sheer  pluck  all 
through.  Teeth  might  chatter,  knees  smite 
together,  marrow  turn  cold ;  nothing  on  earth 
or  Long  Island  could  entirely  stampede 
Henry  Kingsbury,  of  Pebble  Point. 

His  clutch  on  his  self-control  in  any  real 
crisis  never  slipped;  his  mental  steering-gear 
never  gave  way.  Again  his  pallid  lips  moved 
in  speech: 

"  The — thing — to — do,"  he  said  very  slow- 
ly and  deliberately,  "  is  to  swim  out  and — 
and  touch  it.  If  it  dissolves  into  nothing  I'll 
probably  feel  better " 

He  began  to  remove  coat,  collar,  and  shoes, 
forcing  himself  to  talk  calmly  all  the  while. 

"  The  thing  to  do,"  he  went  on  dully,  "  is 
to  swim  over  there  and  get  a  look  at  it.  Of 
course,  it  isn't  really  there.  As  for  drown- 
ing— it  really  doesn't  matter.  ...  In  the 
midst  of  life  we  are  in  Long  Island.  .  .  .  And, 


272  The  Green  Mouse 

if  it  is  there — I  c-c-can  c-capture  it  for  the 

B-B-Bronx " 

Reason  tottered ;  it  revived,  however,  as  he 
plunged  into  the  s.  w.*  of  Oyster  Bay  and 
struck  out,  silent  as  a  sea  otter  for  the  shim- 
mering shape  on  the  ruddy  rocks. 

Flavilla  was  rehearsing  with  all  her  might ; 
her  white  throat  swelled  with  the  music  she 
poured  forth  to  the  sky  and  sea;  her  pretty 
fingers  played  with  the  folds  of  burnished 
hair ;  her  gilded  hand-mirror  flashed,  she  gen- 
tly beat  time  with  her  tail. 

So  thoroughly,  so  earnestly,  did  she  enter 
into  the  spirit  of  the  siren  she  was  represent- 
ing that,  at  moments,  she  almost  wished 
some  fisherman  might  come  into  view — just 
to  see  whether  he'd  really  go  overboard  after 
her. 

However,  audacious  as  her  vagrant 
thoughts  might  be,  she  was  entirely  unpre- 
pared to  see  a  human  head,  made  sleek  by 
sea  water,  emerge  from  the  floating  weeds  al- 
most at  her  feet. 

"  Goodness,"    she    said    faintly,    and    at- 

*  Sparkling  Waters  or  Sacred  Waters. 


Flavilla  2  73 


tempted  to  rise.  But  her  fish  tail  fettered 
her. 

"  Are  you  real !  "  gasped  Kingsbury. 

"  Y-yes.  ...  Are  you?" 

"Great  James!"  he  half  shouted,  half 
sobbed,  "  are  you  human?" 

"  V-very.    Are  you?  " 

He  clutched  at  the  weedy  rock  and  dragged 
himself  up.  For  a  moment  he  lay  breathing 
fast,  water  dripping  from  his  soaked  clothing. 
Once  he  feebly  touched  the  glittering  fish  tail 
that  lay  on  the  rock  beside  him.  It  quivered, 
but  needle  and  thread  had  been  at  work 
there;  he  drew  a  deep  breath  and  closed  his 
eyes. 

When  he  opened  them  again  she  was  look- 
ing about  for  a  likely  place  to  launch  herself 
into  the  bay;  in  fact,  she  had  already  started 
to  glide  toward  the  water;  the  scraping  of  the 
scales  aroused  him,  and  he  sat  up. 

"  I  heard  singing,"  he  said  dreamily,  "  and 
I  climbed  a  tree  and  saw — you!  Do  you 
blame  me  for  trying  to  corroborate  a  thing 
like  you?  " 

"  You  thought  I  was  a  real  one  ?  " 

"  I  thought  that  I  thought  I  saw  a  real  one." 

She  looked  at  him  hopefully. 


274  The  Green  Mouse 

"  Tell  me,  did  my  singing  compel  you  to 
swim  out  here  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  compelled  me." 

"  But — you  were  compelled  ?  " 

"  I — it  seems  so " 

"  O-h !  "  Flushed,  excited,  laughing,  she 
clasped  her  hands  under  her  chin  and  gazed 
at  him. 

"  To  think/'  she  said  softly,  "  that  you  be- 
lieved me  to  be  a  real  siren,  and  that  my 
beauty  and  my  singing  actually  did  lure  you 
to  my  rock!  Isn't  it  exciting?" 

He  looked  at  her,  then  turned  red: 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  he  said. 

Hands  still  clasped  together  tightly  be- 
neath her  rounded  chin,  she  surveyed  him 
with  intense  interest.  He  was  at  a  disadvan- 
tage; the  sleek,  half-drowned  appearance 
which  a  man  has  who  emerges  from  a  swim 
does  not  exhibit  him  at  his  best. 

But  he  had  a  deeper  interest  for  Flavilla; 
her  melody  and  loveliness  had  actually  lured 
him  across  the  water  to  the  peril  of  her  rocks ; 
this  human  being,  this  man  creature,  seemed 
to  be,  in  a  sense,  hers. 

"  Please  fix  your  hair,"  she  said,  handing 
him  her  comb  and  mirror. 


Flavilla  275 


"My  hair?" 

"  Certainly.    I  want  to  look  at  you." 

He  thought  her  request  rather  extraor- 
dinary, but  he  sat  up  and  with  the  aid  of  the 
mirror,  scraped  away  at  his  wet  hair,  parting 
it  in  the  middle  and  combing  it  deftly  into 
two  gay  little  Mercury  wings.  Then,  fish- 
ing in  the  soaked  pockets  of  his  knickerbock- 
ers, he  produced  a  pair  of  smart  pince-nez, 
which  he  put  on,  and  then  gazed  up  at 
her. 

"  Oh ! "  she  said,  with  a  quick,  indrawn 
breath,  "  you  are  attractive  !  " 

At  that  he  turned  becomingly  scarlet. 

Leaning  on  one  lovely,  bare  arm,  burnished 
hair  clustering  against  her  cheeks,  she  con- 
tinued to  survey  him  in  delighted  approval 
which  sometimes  made  him  squirm  inwardly, 
sometimes  almost  intoxicated  him. 

"  To  think,"  she  murmured,  "  that  /  lured 
you  out  here !  " 

"  I  am  thinking  about  it,"  he  said. 

She  laid  her  head  on  one  side,  inspecting 
him  with  frankest  approval. 

"  I  wonder,"  she  said,  "  what  your  name  is. 
I  am  Flavilla  Carr." 

"  Not  one  of  the  Carr  triplets !  " 
19 


276  The  Green  Mouse 

"  Yes — but,"  she  added  quickly,  "  I'm  not 
married.  Are  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no !  "  he  said  hastily.  "  I'm 
Henry  Kingsbury,  of  Pebble  Point,  North- 
port " 

"  Master  and  owner  of  the  beautiful  but  un- 
certain Sappho?  Oh,  tell  me,  are  you  the  man 
who  has  tipped  over  so  many  times  in  Long 
Island  Sound  ?  Because  I — I  adore  a  man  who 
has  the  pluck  to  continue  to  capsize  every  day 
or  two." 

"  Then,"  he  said,  "  you  can  safely  adore  me, 
for  I  am  that  yachtsman  who  has  fallen  off  the 
Sappho  more  times  than  the  White  Knight  fell 
off  his  horse." 

"  I — I  do  adore  you !  "  she  exclaimed  im- 
pulsively. 

"  Of  course,  you  d-d-don't  mean  that,"  he 
stammered,  striving  to  smile. 

"  Yes — almost.  Tell  me,  you — I  know  you 
are  not  like  other  men !  You  never  have  had 
anything  to  do  with  a  Destyn-Carr  machine, 
have  you?  " 

"Never!" 

"  Neither  have  I.  ...  And  so  you  are  not 
in  love — are  you  ?  " 

"  No." 


Flavilla  277 


"  Neither  am  I.  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  that  you 
and  I  have  waited,  and  not  become  engaged 
to  somebody  by  machinery.  ...  I  wonder 
whom  you  are  destined  for." 

"  Nobody — by  machinery." 

She  clapped  her  hands.  "  Neither  am  I.  It 
is  too  stupid,  isn't  it?  I  don't  want  to  marry 
the  man  I  ought  to  marry.  I'd  rather  take 
chances  with  a  man  who  attracts  me  and  who 
is  attracted  by  me.  .  .  .  There  was,  in  the  old 
days — before  everybody  married  by  machinery 
— something  not  altogether  unworthy  in  being 
a  siren,  wasn't  there?  .  .  .  It's  perfectly  de- 
lightful to  think  of  your  seeing  me  out  here 
on  the  rocks,  and  then  instantly  plunging  into 
the  waves  and  tearing  a  foaming  right  of  way 
to  what  might  have  been  destruction ! " 

Her  flushed,  excited  face  between  its  cluster- 
ing curls  looked  straight  into  his. 

"  It  was  destruction,"  he  said.  His  own 
voice  sounded  odd  to  him.  "  Utter  destruction 
to  my  peace  of  mind,"  he  said  again. 

"  You — don't  think  that  you  love  me,  do 
you  ?  "  she  asked.  "  That  would  be  too — too 
perfect  a  climax.  .  .  .  Do  you  ? "  she  asked 
curiously. 

"  I— think  so." 


278  The  Green  Mouse 

"  Do — do  you  knozv  it  ?  " 
He  gazed  bravely  at  her :  "  Yes." 
She    flung    up    both    arms    joyously,    then 
laughed  aloud : 

"  Oh,  the  wonder  of  it !  It  is  too  perfect, 
too  beautiful!  You  really  love  me?  Do  you? 
Are  you  sure?  " 

"  Yes.  .  .  .  Will  you  try  to  love  me  ?  " 
"  Well,  you  know  that  sirens  don't  care  for 
people.  .  .  .  I've  already  been  engaged  two  or 
three  times.  ...  I  don't  mind  being  engaged 
to  you." 

"  Couldn't  you  care  for  me,  Flavilla?  " 
"  Why,  yes.  I  do.  ...  Please  don't  touch 
me ;  I'd  rather  not.  Of  course,  you  know,  I 
couldn't  really  love  you  so  quickly  unless  I'd 
been  subjected  to  one  of  those  Destyn-Carr 
machines.  You  know  that,  don't  you?  But," 
she  added  frankly,  "  I  wouldn't  like  to  have 
you  get  away  from  me.  I — I  feel  like  a  ten- 
der-hearted person  in  the  street  who  is  fol- 
lowed by  a  lost  cat " 

"What!" 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  mean  anything  unpleasant — 
truly  I  didn't.  You  know  how  tenderly  one 
feels  when  a  poor  stray  cat  comes  trotting 
after  one " 


Flavilla  279 


He  got  up,  mad  all  through. 

"Are  you  offended?"  she  asked  sorrow- 
fully. "  When  I  didn't  mean  anything  except 
that  my  heart — which  is  rather  impressionable 
— feels  very  warmly  and  tenderly  toward 
the  man  who  swam  after  me.  .  .  .  Won't 
you  understand,  please?  Listen,  we  have 
been  engaged  only  a  minute,  and  here  al- 
ready is  our  first  quarrel.  You  can  see  for 
yourself  what  would  happen  if  we  ever  mar- 
ried." 

"  It  wouldn't  be  machine-made  bliss,  any- 
way," he  said. 

That  seemed  to  interest  her;  she  inspected 
him  earnestly. 

"  Also,"  he  added,  "  I  thought  you  desired  to 
take  a  sportsman's  chances  ?  " 

"  I— do." 

"  And  I  thought  you  didn't  want  to  marry 
the  man  you  ought  to  marry." 

"  That  is— true." 

"  Then  you  certainly  ought  not  to  marry 
me — but,  will  you  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  when  I  don't — love  you." 

"  You  don't  love  me  because  you  ought 
not  to  on  such  brief  acquaintance.  .  .  .  But 
will  you  love  me,  Flavilla?" 


280  The  Green  Mouse 

She  looked  at  him  in  silence,  sitting  very 
still,  the  bright  hair  veiling  her  cheeks,  the 
fish's  tail  curled  up  against  her  side. 


"  I  don't  know,"  she  said  faintly. 

"  Try." 

"I—  am." 

"Shall  I  help  you?" 

Evidently  she  had  gazed  at  him  long 
enough  ;  her  eyes  fell  ;  her  white  fingers  picked 
at  the  seaweed  pods.  His  arm  closed  around 
her  ;  nothing  stirred  but  her  heart. 

"  Shall  I  help  you  to  love  me  ?  "  he  breathed. 

"  No  —  I  am  —  past  help."  She  raised  her 
head. 

"  This  is  all  so  —  so  wrong,"  she  faltered, 
"that  I  think  it  must  be  right.  ...  Do  you 
truly  love  me?  ...  Don't  kiss  me  if  you  do. 
.  .  .  Now  I  believe  you.  .  .  .  Lift  me  ;  I  can't 
walk  in  this  fish's  tail.  .  .  .  Now  set  me  afloat, 
please." 

He  lifted  her,  walked  to  the  water's  edge, 
bent  and  placed  her  in  the  sea.  In  an  instant 
she  had  darted  from  his  arms  out  into  the 
waves,  flashing,  turning  like  a  silvery  salmon. 

"  Are  you  coming?  "  she  called  back  to  him. 

He  did  not  stir.     She  swam  in  a  circle  and 


Flavilla  281 


came  up  beside  the  rock.  After  a  long,  long 
silence,  she  lifted  up  both  arms ;  he  bent  over. 
Then,  very  slowly,  she  drew  him  down  into 
the  water. 

"  I  am  quite  sure,"  she  said,  as  they  sat  to- 
gether at  luncheon  on  the  sandspit  which 
divides  Northport  Bay  from  the  s.  w.  of  Oyster 
Bay,  "  that  you  and  I  are  destined  for  much 
trouble  when  we  marry;  but  I  love  you  so 
dearly  that  I  don't  care." 

"  Neither  do  I,"  he  said ;  "  will  you  have 
another  sandwich  ?  " 

And,  being  young  and  healthy,  she  took  it, 
and  biting  into  it,  smiled  adorably  at  her  lover. 


(i) 


OTHER  BOOKS  BY 

ROBERT  W.  CHAMBERS 

It  was  Mr.  Chambers  himself  who  wrote  of 
the  caprices  of  the  Mystic  Three — Fate, 
Chance,  and  Destiny — and  how  it  frequently 
happened  that  a  young  man  "  tripped  over  the 
maliciously  extended  foot  of  Fate  and  fell 
plump  into  the  open  arms  of  Destiny."  Per- 
haps it  was  due  to  one  of  the  pranks  of  the 
mystic  sisters  that  Mr.  Chambers  himself 
should  lay  down  his  brush  and  palette  and 
take  up  the  pen.  Mr.  Chambers  studied  art 
in  Paris  for  seven  years.  At  twenty- four  his 
paintings  were  accepted  at  the  Salon;  at 
twenty-eight  he  had  returned  to  New  York 
and  was  busy  as  an  illustrator  for  Life,  Tr^uth, 
and  other  periodicals.  But  already  the  de- 
sire to  write  was  coursing  through  him.  The 
Latin  Quarter  of  Paris,  where  he  had  studied 
so  long,  seemed  to  haunt  him;  he  wanted  to 
tell  its  story.  So  he  did  write  the  story  and, 
in  1893,  published  it  under  the  title  of  "  In 


Other   Books   by   Robert    W.    Chambers 

the  Quarter."  The  same  year  he  published 
another  book,  "  The  King  in  Yellow,"  a  grew- 
some  tale,  but  remarkably  successful.  The 
easel  was  pushed  aside;  the  painter  had  be- 
come writer. 

Writing  of  Mr.  Chambers's  novel  of  last 
fall 

THE  DANGER  MARK 

in  The  Bookman,  Dr.  Frederic  Taber  Cooper 
said,  "  In  this  last  field  (the  society  novel)  it 
would  seem  as  though  Mr.  Chambers  had,  at 
length,  found  himself;  and  the  fact  that  the 
last  of  the  four  books  is  the  best  and  most 
sustained  and  most  honest  piece  of  work  he 
has  yet  done  affords  solid  ground  for  the  be- 
lief that  he  has  still  better  and  maturer  vol- 
umes yet  to  come.  There  is  no  valid  reason 
why  Mr.  Chambers  should  not  ultimately  be 
remembered  as  the  novelist  who  left  behind 
him  a  comprehensive  human  comedy  of  New 
York." 

This  is  another  novel  of  society  life  like 
"The  Fighting  Chance"  and  "The  Fir- 
ing Line."  The  chief  characters  in  the 
story  are  a  boy  and  a  girl,  inheritors 


Other   Books   by   Robert    W.    Chambers 

of  a  vast  fortune,  whose  parents  are  dead, 
and  who  have  been  left  in  the  guardian- 
ship of  a  large  Trust  Company.  They  are 
brought  up  with  no  companions  of  their  own 
age  and  are  a  unique  pair  when  turned  out, 
on  coming  of  age,  into  New  York  society — 
two  children  educated  by  a  great  machine, 
possessors  of  fabulous  wealth,  with  every  in- 
herited instinct  for  good  and  evil  set  free  for 
the  first  time.  The  fact  that  the  girl  has  ac- 
quired the  habit  of  dropping  a  little  cologne 
on  a  lump  of  sugar  and  nibbling  it  when  tired 
or  depressed  gives  an  indication  of  the  strug- 
gle that  the  children  have  before  them,  a 
struggle  of  their  own,  in  the  midst  of  their 
luxurious  surroundings,  more  vital,  more  real, 
perhaps,  than  any  that  Mr.  Chambers  has  yet 
depicted.  It  is  a  tense,  powerful,  highly  dra- 
matic story,  handling  a  delicate  subject  with- 
out offense  to  the  taste  or  the  judgment  of  the 
most  critical  reader. 

Mr.  Chambers's  third  novel  of  society  life  is 

THE  FIRING  LINE 

Its    scenes    are    laid    principally    at    Palm 
Beach,  and  no  more  distinct  yet  delicately  tint- 

3 


Other   Books   by   Robert   W.   Chambers 

ed  picture  of  an  American  fashionable  resort, 
in  the  full  blossom  of  its  brief,  recurrent 
glory,  has  ever  been  drawn.  In  this  book,  Mr. 
Chambers's  purpose  is  to  show  that  the  salva- 
tion of  society  lies  in  the  constant  injection  of 
new  blood  into  its  veins.  His  heroine,  the 
captivating  Shiela  Cardross,  of  unknown  par- 
entage, yet  reared  in  luxury,  suddenly  finds 
herself  on  life's  firing  line,  battling  with  one 
of  the  most  portentous  problems  a  young  girl 
ever  had  to  face.  Only  a  master  writer  could 
handle  her  story ;  Mr.  Chambers  does  it  most 
successfully. 


THE  YOUNGER  SET 

is  the  second  of  Mr.  Chambers's  society  nov- 
els. It  takes  the  reader  into  the  swirling  society 
life  of  fashionable  New  York,  there  to  wrestle 
with  that  ever-increasing  evil,  the  divorce 
question.  As  a  student  of  life,  Mr.  Chambers 
is  thorough;  he  knows  society;  his  pictures 
are  so  accurate  that  he  enables  the  reader  to 
imbibe  the  same  atmosphere  as  if  he  had  been 
born  and  brought  up  in  it.  Moreover,  no  mat- 
ter how  intricate  the  plot  may  be  or  how  great 
the  lesson  to  be  taught,  the  romance  in  the 


Other   Books   by   Robert    W.    Chambers 

story  is  always  foremost.  For  "  The  Young- 
er Set,"  Mr.  Chambers  has  provided  a  hero 
with  a  rigid  code  of  honor  and  the  grit  to  stick 
to  it,  even  though  it  be  unfashionable  and  out 
of  date.  He  is  a  man  whom  everyone  would 
seek  to  emulate. 

The  earliest  of  Mr.  Chambers's  society 
novels  is 

THE  FIGHTING  CHANCE 

It  is  the  story  of  a  young  man  who  has  in- 
herited with  his  wealth  a  craving  for  liquor, 
and  a  girl  who  has  inherited  a  certain  rebel- 
liousness and  a  tendency  toward  dangerous 
caprice.  The  two,  meeting  on  the  brink  of 
ruin,  fight  out  their  battles — two  weaknesses 
joined  with  love  to  make  a  strength. 

It  is  sufficient  to  say  of  this  novel  that  more 
than  five  million  people  have  read  it.  It  has 
taken  a  permanent  place  among  the  best  fic- 
tion of  the  period. 

SPECIAL  MESSENGER 

is  the  title  of  Mr.  Chambers's  novel  just  pre- 
ceding "The  Danger  Mark."  It  is  the  ro- 

5 


Other   Books   by   Robert   W.   Chambers 

mance  of  a  young  woman  spy  and  scout  in  the 
Civil  War.  As  a  special  messenger  in  the 
Union  service,  she  is  led  into  a  maze  of  criti- 
cal situations,  but  her  coolness  and  bravery 
and  winsome  personality  always  carry  her  on 
to  victory.  The  story  is  crowded  with  dra- 
matic incident,  the  roar  of  battle,  the  grim 
realities  of  war;  and,  at  times,  in  sharp  con- 
trast, comes  the  tenderest  of  romance.  It  is 
written  with  an  understanding  and  sympathy 
for  the  viewpoint  of  the  partisans  on  both 
sides  of  the  conflict. 


THE  RECKONING 

is  a  novel  of  the  Revolutionary  War.  It  is  the 
fourth,  chronologically,  of  a  series  of  which 
"  Cardigan  "  and  "  The  Maid-at-Arms  "  were 
the  first  two.  The  third  has  not  yet  been 
written.  These  novels  of  New  York  in  the 
Revolutionary  days  are  another  striking  ex- 
ample of  the  enthusiasm  which  Mr.  Chambers 
puts  into  his  work.  To  write  an  accurate  and 
successful  historical  novel,  one  must  be  a  his- 
torian as  well  as  a  romancer.  Mr.  Chambers 
is  an  authority  on  New  York  State  history 
during  the  Colonial  period.  And,  if  the  hours 
6 


Other   Books   by   Robert    W.    Chambers 

spent  in  poring  over  old  maps  and  reading  up 
old  records  and  journals  do  not  show,  the  re- 
sult is  always  apparent.  The  facts  are  not 
obtrusive,  but  they  are  there,  interwoven  in 
the  gauzy  woof  of  the  artist's  imagination. 
That  is  why  these  romances  carry  conviction 
always,  why  we  breathe  the  very  air  of  the 
period  as  we  read  them. 

IOLE 

Another  splendid  example  of  the  author's 
versatility  is  this  farcical,  humorous  satire  on 
the  art  nouveau  of  to-day.  Mr.  Chambers, 
with  all  his  knowledge  of  the  artistic  jargon, 
has  in  this  little  novel  created  a  pious  fraud 
of  a  father,  who  brings  up  his  eight  lovely 
daughters  in  the  Adirondacks,  where  they 
wear  pink  pajamas  and  eat  nuts  and  fruit,  and 
listen  to  him  while  he  lectures  them  and  every- 
body else  on  art.  It  is  easy  to  imagine  what 
happens  when  several  rich  and  practical 
young  New  Yorkers  stumble  upon  this  group. 
Everybody  is  happy  in  the  end. 

One  might  run  on  for  twenty  books  more, 
but  there  is  not  space  enough  more  than  to 
mention  "  The  Tracer  of  Lost  Persons,"  "  The 
Tree  of  Heaven,"  "  Some  Ladies  in  Haste," 


Other   Books   by   Robert   W.   Chambers 

and  Mr.  Chambers's  delightful  nature  books 
for  children,  telling  how  Geraldine  and  Pe- 
ter go  wandering  through  "Outdoor-Land," 
"Mountain-Land,"  "Orchard-Land,"  "Riv- 
er-Land," "  Forest-Land,"  and  "  Garden- 
Land."  They,  in  turn,  are  as  different  from 
his  novels  in  fancy  and  conception  as  each  of 
his  novels  from  the  other. 

Mr.  Chambers  is  a  born  optimist.  The  la- 
bor of  writing  is  a  natural  enjoyment  to  him. 
In  reading  anything  he  has  written,  one  is  at 
once  impressed  with  the  ease  with  which  it 
moves  along.  There  is  no  straining  after  ef- 
fects, no  affectations,  no  hysteria;  but  always 
there  is  a  personality,  an  individuality  that  ap- 
peals to  the  best  side  of  the  reader's  nature 
and  somehow  builds  up  a  personal  relation  be- 
tween him  and  the  author.  Perhaps  it  is  this 
consummate  skill,  this  remarkable  ability  to 
win  the  reader  that  has  enabled  Mr.  Cham- 
bers to  increase  his  audience  year  after  year, 
until  it  now  numbers  millions;  and  it  is  only 
just  that  critics  should,  as  they  frequently  do, 
proclaim  him  "  the  most  popular  writer  in  the 
country." 


8 


MMWAU  OHW^^ji  below,  c. 

rSESs*55*- 


T1D2lA-60m;6,'69 


M221430 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OP  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


